03-25-2019, 06:30 PM
Her hand gave him pause. The wolf padded near, nuzzling Sierra lovingly. Meanwhile, Brenna stuck her nose under a bush and only her back-end stuck out. She was clearly investigating nefarious and bewildering scents of something: rodents, probably. Sierra and the wolf had a similar relationship, though. One of companionship that stuck Tristan deep. The sensation was odd, and he wasn't sure what to call it, but he was fascinated by their interaction. Thorn Paw was nothing like this, but the old wolf was hardly a half-grown pup like Never.
The black pillar twisted in his minds' eye. She couldn't see the image, but Never relayed the sensation onward like a telepathic conduit. Interesting idea, Tristan thought, using the wolves to convey messages to the two-legged members of packs around the world. Maybe even from pack to pack if one could ride the crashing waves along the way.
His gaze distanced itself, then, as he hurled his own howling thoughts to the wind. Miles away, a wolf lifted its head to his call, but the song soared farther, stretching like the wings of hawks diving above mountainpeaks. Far beyond that, an echo of recognition returned. Then another and another. The whites of his eyes rolled slightly, unbeknownst to him, the gold lidded dark. Warm air tickled his fur, his nose lifted high on the wind. Though, they weren't his noses and the fur wasn't his to ripple, yet he saw a different landscape than the plush green of Norway. Wherever he was, it was hot and dirty. The trees scrubby with twigs snapping beneath his heavy paws.
A dark den burrows underground; a den of metal. Two-legs hide there in dark cages. A female and male, paired with young ones. They caged a wolfsister: young pups trapped in cages whimpering and alone. They must be punished. Kill them, brother. Rip throats and howl warning to others.
His face met that of another pair of golden eyes. A wolf that sniffed angrily, bared its teeth ever so slightly, its hot breath on his cheeks. Tristan's will exerted stronger, sharing the fury and hate of their action, beckoning the wolf to strike them down. The twisted stone pillar loomed like the shadow of a mountain peak.
The snap of teeth hurled him backward. The echo of thought returned, and Tristan's mind slammed to his body. He'd gone to one knee during the communication with the distant pack, farther than he ever knew possible. Jaw clenched, teeth bared like the jaws of the wolf were his own too hard to dissect his own emotions from that of the wolves.
He fell back to sit on the ground, but his breath was steady and calm. Gold eyes flashed bright and aware again, fully present with Sierra, Never and Brenna. The dog was completely ignorant of what just transpired. "I think I just spoke with a pack in Spain." He looked up at Sierra. Even sitting on cool mosses, she was so short there wasn't far to stretch his neck.
"The pillar you see is dangerous. It is the frozen cage of a troll. I put him there. I will cage them all. Anyone who tries to trap our kind. I will do to them as they did to me." Most people think they are stories, like the Hidden Folk. "Fairies, elves and trolls are not things of legend. They exist. I was raised by one."
The black pillar twisted in his minds' eye. She couldn't see the image, but Never relayed the sensation onward like a telepathic conduit. Interesting idea, Tristan thought, using the wolves to convey messages to the two-legged members of packs around the world. Maybe even from pack to pack if one could ride the crashing waves along the way.
His gaze distanced itself, then, as he hurled his own howling thoughts to the wind. Miles away, a wolf lifted its head to his call, but the song soared farther, stretching like the wings of hawks diving above mountainpeaks. Far beyond that, an echo of recognition returned. Then another and another. The whites of his eyes rolled slightly, unbeknownst to him, the gold lidded dark. Warm air tickled his fur, his nose lifted high on the wind. Though, they weren't his noses and the fur wasn't his to ripple, yet he saw a different landscape than the plush green of Norway. Wherever he was, it was hot and dirty. The trees scrubby with twigs snapping beneath his heavy paws.
A dark den burrows underground; a den of metal. Two-legs hide there in dark cages. A female and male, paired with young ones. They caged a wolfsister: young pups trapped in cages whimpering and alone. They must be punished. Kill them, brother. Rip throats and howl warning to others.
His face met that of another pair of golden eyes. A wolf that sniffed angrily, bared its teeth ever so slightly, its hot breath on his cheeks. Tristan's will exerted stronger, sharing the fury and hate of their action, beckoning the wolf to strike them down. The twisted stone pillar loomed like the shadow of a mountain peak.
The snap of teeth hurled him backward. The echo of thought returned, and Tristan's mind slammed to his body. He'd gone to one knee during the communication with the distant pack, farther than he ever knew possible. Jaw clenched, teeth bared like the jaws of the wolf were his own too hard to dissect his own emotions from that of the wolves.
He fell back to sit on the ground, but his breath was steady and calm. Gold eyes flashed bright and aware again, fully present with Sierra, Never and Brenna. The dog was completely ignorant of what just transpired. "I think I just spoke with a pack in Spain." He looked up at Sierra. Even sitting on cool mosses, she was so short there wasn't far to stretch his neck.
"The pillar you see is dangerous. It is the frozen cage of a troll. I put him there. I will cage them all. Anyone who tries to trap our kind. I will do to them as they did to me." Most people think they are stories, like the Hidden Folk. "Fairies, elves and trolls are not things of legend. They exist. I was raised by one."