[ P ] taxidermy of you and me

A truly fearsome beast climbs the mountains into the farthest part of the Highlands. Red outlines his large stature as he moves against the treacherous valleys of cliffs. Huffs and puffs come from him even though he is a well-oiled machine at this point; equipped muscles and all. Though he has never breached the snow-capped mountains. Today, he trudges with reason. A changeling rested within the Tír na nÓg. Or so he expected him to. It wasn't really today's goal to find the man he was looking for. Nathair had been bored with dwelling in Redwood for so long, and Sussex wasn't scratching the itch he needed lately. Maybe it was an itch that needed to be scratched by something else... He'd also found a new way to exercise his body and stamina, keeping up with the jumps in between various crumbling parts of the ground. It was exhilarating to have an unfamiliar terrain to overcome.

The cold air shows Nathair's huffs of frigid breath. Even though it was terrifyingly cold; something he is not used to. There is something else that gives him the sense, the longing deep within his chest. Nathair's nose twitched; not knowing why he felt this way or why there was some direct pull for him to wander. A fog covers most of his view in front of him; not being able to see over six or seven feet out. He took a break, leaning against one tree as he closed his eyes for a moment's rest, trying to regain what air he had lost on the way up. "Fuck." He muttered underneath his breath before rising to the challenge of the icy conditions once more. Nathair thought about chuffing for the other, but instead, started to make his own way through the evergreen pines.


"Speak and be heard."

table ▶▶claerie. manip ▶▶ sylvirr

@Leviathan

He had no true reason, really to be here. His beckon calls wailed like the gulls that sprawled across the ocean skies. Yet Leviathan, for once did not crave the coarse sands betwixt his toes. No. He craved the ice, the bitter northern winds. The ice that called within his blood. Yes, his ancestors were not always Pirates, they were wolves hardy for the snows and frost... the stubborn and cruel. Perhaps, if he returned to the homeland of his blood, then perhaps, he would find his way back. Back to re-ignited passion. Back to the confident Pirate Captain...

The pines were a different smell, yet one that was soothing. The ground here was softer, more pliable to his large paws. Yet he did so fit in perfectly; the shadows that formed his pelt blended into the scenery around him. The icy white highlights of his maw, brows and chest danced under the moon's pale touch and yet he was concealed, once the mists surrounded him. It was bitter, acrid to his nose, he trudged through almost blindly, squinting against the dimly lit fog. His nose caught the familiar scent first. Vague, whispering through the winds. That was when his head uplifted and ears perked and then, glimmering through the shadows: two brilliant bright gems of emerald.

"What brings you to the mists, lad?" He beckoned, feeling his chest tighten. Nathair was a sensitive subject. Their last meeting had ended...badly. It was not how he had ever pictured: being at odds with his own flesh and blood, he always promised that he would do what his Parents could not, provide a safe and promising home to his progeny.

Oh how he could not be more wrong.

A chilling quiet ran through the mountains. Nathair didn't expect it to be loud and as overpopulated as Redwood was now, but he expected something. There had been word of a heatwave and there was mostly melting snow that the dry ground seemed to suckle in whatever it could. It was a dry freeze. Nothing left for anyone who wanted a drink. The cold still somewhat enveloped the surrounding air, but it was not as cold as it usually was. The sun bared down more than usual, anywhere Nath went. And in his darkened pelt, was also suffering some of the drought that others had been. It was nice for no one to be around. Nath couldn't imagine all of the stubborn Highlanders leaving their roots. There still had to be some lurking around their frozen dens, waiting for death to claim them. The changeling would probably be one of them. The man snorted to himself and carried on his way through the trees.

The trees made up a frenzied maze; where almost everything down within the Lowlands was scorched, the evergreens stayed - well, green. Which was something that Nathair had never come across. He never had to. The Highlands were not somewhere he really ever wanted to trespass into. He didn't feel welcome. Sacred traditions of "Fae", it all felt like nonsense to him. Which, if any of the Highlanders were to hear that, he was sure he'd be run off. Nath didn't notice the change in the air or scent that would have been wafted his way if it weren't for the cool relief of a breeze. The heavy presence of a shadow could not be felt in the fog. Only it hung in the air, looming.

'What brings you to the mists, lad?' Nathair went frigid, as if flash freeze had frozen him over. The voice held the same tone as the one that called to him from a separate jail cell in the dungeon. There were conflicting feelings about this man. His father. Ones that he had not really had the time to sort out. The only time he'd had for it was when he felt overwhelmed and got into a tussle on the black sands with Valerian. Nathair finally warmed somewhat enough to squint his eyes and find the dark outline of his father. It's not who he expected to find tucked away in the mist. It's not who he wanted to find. They still hadn't really talked since King Adamh's assassination attempt. Nathair could hardly handle being disciplined and told how to live his life. "Y'know, I thought pirates were contained to the seas." Nath commented, bringing a paw to his chin as if he were thinking, then decided on his answer, staring down his fahter. It wasn't an answer to Levi's question; the same dodging technique he had used repeatedly. A pro at not telling what he didn't want to. Nath also didn't want to divulge any information that would tell his father about his life. That would completely go against anything he felt for him - even as much as he told himself that he did not feel anything. He'd only ever told one wolf about his life, and that was Amelia. Seeing as she hadn't been around, gone on her own mission, Nath was bottling a lot. And he didn't intend to let the glass shatter now.

"Speak and be heard."

table ▶▶claerie. manip ▶▶ sylvirr

@Leviathan

It was a sweet relief to the heat, the blistering sun felt like it had burnt right through his fur to his skin. His paws felt worn and weary. Though of course, it was nothing a little sea water could not fix; there was something... refreshing about the change in atmosphere. Something new. It re-kindled the explorer within him, the wildness of a beast untamed.

"y'know, i thought pirates were contained to the seas." Ah yes, sarcasm and spitefulness never did too far fell from the tree. An icy brow quirked; regarding the younger male for a mere moment. "'Aye, traditionally perhaps." Nonchalantly brushing off Nathair's weak attempt at a jab. "But my Pirates are free." A small glimmer of a smirk pulled at his dark lips. " Free ti roam, so long as they know their home lies with me." But how far had that freedom cost him? Those promises of a better world, of uniting the lost Pirate families now lay in ruins, tatters. "However, our blood was not always tied to the seas."A long time ago. It had been very different.


He could sense the tension within the air, the seething anger that boiled within his son's chest. For a brief moment, that icy gaze of his softened, before a sigh whispered through his jaws and into the night. "I despised my Mother," offered in a more sombre tone. His icy gaze cast to his dark paws. Offering a small glimmer; a glimpse in an open paw. It was a tale he rarely spoke of, now. A tale sung long ago.