[ AW ] meet me at our spot

Bright lights dance against the darkness of the night. Shadows gather and dance on the outsides of the flames whilst the starlight seems to light the path clear of spirits. Elders from the highlander clans seem to be strewn about as the Seven of Swords walked down the pathway of campfires. She's ghastly white, those who she walked past had to take a second glance at her, to make sure she wasn't a spirit herself. She's not as lanky as some of the wandering spirits appear, she's a got some muscle along her shoulders and legs. A hunters' special marks of thin scars that scatter around her. Her pelt has been worn, dusted even as young wolf. She's more mature than most her age, molded into a bitter creature with more than one mask sewn over her true one. Little does she know that she comes from a line of soft rage and hard love. Broken pieces that filter through her blood, destined for tragedy; happy endings would have no place in her life, if the stars still aligned how they fell in the past. Tonight is no place for bad fates though. Fires of cleansing burn bright and ward any of the bad fae off. Mists grow heavier near the ending of the lights, where the fires cannot reflect. Fae dance in the darkness, she is sure of it. They wait for unwitting children who play hide and seek in between their parents' legs until they step too far. She takes a stride closer to one of the fires, she knows all too well the pain of losing a sibling to the leering fae. 'Everything happens for a reason.' Her body weight presses into the trunk of a strong and mighty pine tree, sprouting it's needles towards the moon. Flickers of the flame's shadows lick at the leaves, gray smoke pluming and sending it's regards to the clouds. She has to believe that everything happens for a reason. She grips to the only thing her mothers left her with. Everything. Happens. For. A. Reason. A mantra in her head, she closes her eyes and lets out a breath, nails curling in the crunchy grass underpaw. She is still sore from the hunt not long before. A feast for Samhain that she had provided for. A ritual of their ancestors and one that she believes in. Warding the spirits off, the bad ones. Ones that haunted dreams, stole their lucky wish bones, and took off with wandering children. It would leave spots for the good fae to come in, heal the land of the tricksters. She stays by the heat of one warm fire, one that is parted from the commotion that is outward. Maybe she doesn't look so inviting, lost in lost with a scent of musk and blood on her pelt. Oddly, there are no stains on her pelt or any sign of dirt among her ankles and paws. She appeared clean, and smelt of morning dew the longer someone sat with her. She waited, unknowing for what, if it is the holler too loud of another crowd to draw her attention or someone coming to her fire, after all, it was a time of celebration. She remembered her mothers talking for hours on end, mainly the mother she took after the most, her soft laugh and fading eyes. She turned out so different, cold and jaded. She should be social and jovial due to the occasion, but she celebrates in her own way, deep breaths of the Tir Na Nog.

ART ➤ AMPHI

Darkness had fallen and yet the forests glowed with an orange haze, the flickering of firelight creating looming shadows amongst the trees. Monarch wandered up and up, into an unknown forest, following those haunting, dancing lights. There were so many wolves here, so many fires, huge bonfires. Monarch could feel the tickling of fear at the sight of so many flames, an instinct telling him to run from such heat, but everyone else was enjoying them, sitting and talking or dancing, pups playing. A celebration then… but why fires? Monarch’s brow was creased slightly as he walked slowing around the various bonfires, avoiding the careening strangers, trying to take it all in… to absorb it. It was strangely overwhelming, when he’d never been to any kind of thing like this ever before.

He wandered away from the center to the smaller fires further out, where there were less wolves, less chaos. His brow still furrowed, watching with curiosity but also confusion. He knew so little about the Fae, but had vague notions that these bonfires had something to do with them. His mouth twisted a little as he wondered how exactly. Light paws had carried him to a fire on the outskirts, where only one other wolf sat, a female in white with the smell of a hunt about her. Monarch hesitated a moment, before moving towards her, keeping a safe distance, as he didn’t want to assume she wanted company… as quiet as her fire was in comparison.

”Hello,” he said, his deep voice a soft murmur, his face a bit of a perpetual frown. ”I’m Monarch… and I’m not from here,” he introduced himself while admitting a vulnerability. He looked away from her green eyes for a moment, into the fire. ”Would it be okay if I join you?” he asked, hoping he appeared friendly instead of gruff.

@Haricott

ACE SINCLAIR

The thrill of the hunt still thrummed in his chest as he headed towards the celebration tonight. He walks proudly with the elk pelt strung over his back, which he actually finds to be quite comfortable to keep back the little autumn chill in the air. Most importantly, it makes him look badass and handsome (more so than usual).

Ace entered the hunt to make something of himself here and be the talk of the town. He's new and one of the thieves, but he still wants to blend in. That's the best way to do it, isn't it? Pretend to be one with the crowd, get all your information and use it to your advantage later. Now that he's helped supply food for the celebration, he hopes this will help. Having the trophy of the pelt should help too.

As he approaches the bonfires, he can hear whispering and sees some heads turn. He flashes them a smile and winks at a pretty girl as he passes. There is wildness in the air both from the smoke of the fires and the magic hidden in the shadows. He's always hearing about the Fae- are they watching them tonight? Someone had warned him not to stray too far from the path.

He decides not to worry too much about it and comes upon two wolves at one of the fires. The light of the flames brightens their features, but it's the snowy white wolf that catches his attention the most.

"Hope you two don't mind some company? My name is Ace," he says in greeting, nodding his head at the man but steps a little closer to the girl, the one he hunted with not too long ago. She had done really well, admittedly, much better than Ace had, but he's not about to say that out loud. "Hey again! That was some hunt, huh?" he says to her with a smile and gestures at his elk pelt. "That elk didn't know what hit him."

"Speaking."

table by rae - image by yellwolf | @Haricott @Monarch