Are You Tired? [Varian]

[Frost]

Summer 25th, 511 AV


Frost licked her lips free of snowflakes as she walked from her cabin, holding her cloak tighter around her form as she made her way down towards a busier part of Avanthal. The Warrens were lovely and quiet, but Frost still longed for friends and companions. A lonely wolf was said to be a dead wolf. As it was, Frost wasn't really lonely. There were a few Vantha here that were friendly. And then, there was her pack loping through the trees, always welcoming should she return as a wolf, for however long she pleased. The pack needed her in a way, she was nurse maid to the pups of the alpha's, the nanny as they went to hunt.

Frost half closed her eyes in the blinding light of the sun's rays reflected off the snow. The blue was alien, distant from emotion. Frost was accustomed to seeing emotions in action, or hearing them in snarls or yips, not in wolf eyes.

The Kelvic growled at an imaginary foe, her over-developed canines flashing just as unnaturally as her bright blue eyes. Afterwards, she sighed. While she remembered things about her Kelvic mother and father, she was much more accustomed to life with her wolf mother and the pack that found her useful for their pups. She even liked her position in the pack. They could have made her Omega, and then she'd have had a harder time as one of them, but instead they placed her in the center, among hunters and scouts.

Frost sighed, pulling her thoughts from her pack, and glanced around. She had just entered one of the busier parts of Avanthal, an area she was unfamiliar with, and she inhaled deeply, catching scents. All scents were strange, unfamiliar, and so were the people. While Frost had met a few Vantha, she did not feel close enough to them to refer to them as friends, and while she wanted to call them companions, she considered herself lonely still. Even now, as her blue eyes roamed around, taking in new sights and new people, she still felt like she was not there, like she was in the crowd but all alone.

[Varian Snowsong]

Another endless night had passed. When you didn’t sleep, when you never had to stop to eat or drink the day sometimes seemed endless. While the young wolf that had become his bondmate only a short while ago slept, enjoyed the company of her pack and generally did things that mortals did, the Nuit would wander the streets of Avanthal, trying to distract himself from the unpleasant thoughts that still invaded his mind every now and then. The wolf’s appearance had made things better – through her he felt alive and hapy again and had regained a little hope – but a certain amount of restlessness remained. The bright sunlight didn’t affect him as much as it would have during his lifetime, and neither did he feel the cold in any way. Even as a mortal he had been resistant to the cold due to Morwen’s mark, and he doubted that he could freeze to death at all now. A man like him couldn’t die through natural causes anymore. But while the cold couldn’t kill him anymore, too much cold could still affect his body negatively and cause frostbite – that never healed. Any wounds he suffered remained, and thus he carefully protected himself. The former Vantha was dressed in a cloak, gloves, a scarf. Very little of his body apart from his face was visible, very little that betrayed that he was more than just another resident of this city of snow and ice. There was only the most peculiar smell. A mortal would only have noticed the perfume that he used to hide the smell of a dead body, but a wolf would be aware of it. A wolf would notice that the man that walked past the Warrens, through Avanthal, seemingly without having a clear destination in mind smelled a little different from all those other people in the city.

[Frost]

Frost's nose twitched as someone passed her by. She didn't catch a face, but the scent was... the most unusual thing ever. It wasn't natural, but under it lay the unmistakeable odour of a human.

Her ice eyes settled on the figure, who was swaddled in an unbearable amount of clothes, and she hopped to pursue him, curiousity piqued. She kept to him by his scent, knowing enough to identify humans as male or female. She wasn't sure what he was, but she was tempted to stick her nose right up to his skin and inhale. A socially unnaceptable action, but a tempting one nontheless.

She followed him instead, wondering at him.

[Varian Snowsong]

He thought about visiting the market and getting something to eat or drink. Even though he couldn’t digest food anymore, even though he didn’t feel hunger or thirst any longer, he still enjoyed the warmth of a cup of tea. He still enjoyed looking at food, remembering its taste. It was one of the things he missed the most. He didn’t care about the fact that he didn’t sleep anymore, but he definitely missed that aspect of his human existence. But the Vantha would most likely look at him strangely if he just held the food in his hand and eventually threw it away or gave it to the poor. The market wouldn’t be a good idea. And neither would visiting the Snowsong Hold where members of his mortal family still lived. He’d just take a walk through the city and watch the people that had once been his from a distance. While the Nuit often played the flute, he didn’t feel like making music this time. He wanted to enjoy the sounds around him instead, the quiet whispering of the wind, the sounds the people around him made as they walked, the hints of conversation that sometimes reached his ears. Even a frozen city like Avanthal could be full of life. He didn’t notice that he was being followed right away. The Nuit was too deep in thought, too busy wondering what he was supposed to do with the rest of his life, with the rest of eternity. He only became aware of the presence of another being in his vicinity after a while, and he couldn’t say exactly how he knew. Maybe the meeting with Silvy had made him more aware of wolves or their ways, maybe it was just some strange kind of intuition. He turned around and looked at the wolf. He didn’t know whether the animal that was following him was a kelvic or a real wolf, but since it was in the middle of Avanthal it was probably at least somewhat tame. There was no fear on the Nuit’s face, only a vague kind of curiosity. His eyes shimmered golden, but he didn’t say anything, nor did he move. He stood completely still and waited for the wolf’s reaction. One of his hand’s was raised a little maybe in a greeting or to tell her that he was not armed and thus meant no harm.

[Frost]

FrostShe was in a human form. But I can write her as her wolf body. Whoever grades this, I'm sorry for any confusion about Frost and what form she is in! Merci! paused when the Vantha turned and looked right at her, his gold eyes meeting her icy blue ones. She cocked her head at him and approached slowly now as he stood there, his hand raised slightly.

The wolf stood within a foot of him, her black nose twitching as she inhaled the strange odour of his scent. It made her wrinkle her nose, but as she was closer now she could smell wolf on his clothes. An unfamiliar wolf, not of her pack, mixed with human scent. Frost didn't know what to make of this. She didn't know if she was smelling a Kelvic like herself or if she was smelling a human with a wolf for a pet. It caused her to whine quietly, and then she began to circle him, her nose close to his clothes to try and identify what it was he smelled like. Eventually she just shook her head and returned to where she had been when he faced her, sitting back on her haunches and staring at him. He was a curio for her, something new in a city she was beginning to view as static and unchangeable. She wished she had the ability for human speech in this form, but she couldn't even make that a possibility here. Too many people.

Her eyes remained fixed on this Vantha's, watching for what he would do next after she had examined him as thoroughly as she could at the time.

[Varian Snowsong]

As the wolf approached him slowly rather than rushing towards him, trying to take a bite out of him or tucking her tail between her legs and running because he smelt all wrong, the Nuit knew that she was not a normal wolf. He still wasn’t sure if she was like his bondmate, a wolf that sometimes took the form of a human, but he was completely convinced that there was no reason to be worried now. He calmly let her take his scent, let her inspect him, aware that he was probably the strangest creature she had ever met. Could she smell the wolf on him? Did she knew that he had been in the company of one of her kind only a short time ago? What did she think of this unusual mixture of death and decay, human and wolf? As she whined quietly, he gave her a gentle smile, a smile that failed to reveal the blackened tongue that was the clearest sign of his undead nature. As she circled him, he turned around so that he was always looking at her furry face, not because he was afraid that she would change her mind about him – he wasn’t afraid of such things – but because it interested him what she was doing. As she finally sat down and simply stared at him, the Nuit stood there completely motionlessly for a moment, and then he slowly approached her and touched her furry head if she gave him permission to do so. „Are you like her?“ he wanted to know, not knowing if she even understood him. „Are you like Silvy? A Kelvic? Or are you just a wolf that has gotten used to the company of humans?“