A Cold Wind Blows

[Blackie]

The cave was dark, except for one small fire that crackled and popped. Sweet smelling smoke floated and swirled like ghostly rivers, softening the edges of the world. The aroma of herbs and plants also hung heavy, little piles of dried leaves placed in careful rows along one of the cave-walls.

Were one to enter at this time, they might begin to feel lightheaded or sleepy. But this was not a smoke for peaceful dreams. No, it was a smoke of meditation. This was a smoke to help relax, and release oneself from the physical body.

This was the smoke of the Shamans.

Sior inhaled deeply, allowing his mind - not just his mind, his spirit - to rise with the foggy tendrils curling towards the ceiling. He felt his heartbeat slow, the ground slipping away beneath his paws until he stood not within his cave, but on a misty, snow-covered field.

He wasn't here physically, of course. Not really. His body was safely back in his cave, deep within a meditative state. But it felt real; it always did, and his mind could be harmed just as much as his body.

Fog swirled, and Sior turned his head. The ground trembled, and a huge beast materialized beside him. It snorted, pawed the ground with one mighty hoof. Its breath wreathed the horns atop its head, giving it a ghostly appearance. The Shaman wolf nodded his head with all the familiarity of an old friend. "Bison," He greeted calmly. He could smell the musk heavy in the air.

"What is it you wish to show me, friend? What meaning does this place have?" He'd learned to expect unusual things from the spirits, but this place he stood in was a far cry from where he usually wound up in the spirit realm. His meditations seemed to have taken him everywhere - beaches, mountaintops, the bottom of the ocean. But there was something empty about this place that struck him as odd. "I seek your guidance, Bison."

Suddenly, Sior's head reeled. Ground and sky seemed to reverse and twist around him. Despite digging his claws in, it felt as if he would fall into the sky! Just as abruptly as it started, the world righted itself again. Bison had come to stand beside him, barely touching. The spirit tossed its head, letting out a rumble from its chest that growled like thunder. Bison was giving him stability, for some chaos to come. But why?

Things seemed to happen quickly then. The mist swirled, barely visible shapes appearing and disappearing, snarling silent words, slashing and fighting. Thunder cracked once more, and Sior tilted his head to the sky as a bird of massive size appeared. Each flap of its wings let loose another roar of thunder that shook the ground below. The bird turned its head, screaming down at Sior in what might have been a warning or hostility. Then the earth rolled once more and -

Sior's eyes snapped open, suddenly back in his cave. His breathing was harsh, and even though the fire had seemed a safe distance away before, it now felt too close - too warm. The flames died out as he swept dirt across them, and the smoke began to dissipate.

Stepping outside, the grey-eyed Shaman stared off into the distance, towards the rest of the Cassiopeian territory, and - beyond that - the other packs. He could not be sure what these signs meant. There was a good deal of symbolism involved that he as a Shaman must interpret. Spirits spoke... differently than those in the physical realm, and comprehension of their meaning would take time.

"But do we have time?" He murmured, letting the cold wind tangle his thick fur. Winter came early in the mountains, and snow had already begun to fall in thick blankets on the higher peaks, despite it only being autumn.

Yes, Winter was coming indeed.

[.Akeali.]

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[bg=27221c] a k e a l i THOUGHTS TALKING She stumbled, sliding on loose gravel down part of the way. She shook then, sending a cloud of dust from her pelt, still a bit shocked that the ground had just given away all of a sudden, and that she'd not been injured in the slightest. Or so she had thought, until she moved. A sharp pain in her paw alerted her of the cut she'd somehow aquired on the bottom of her foot. "Augh. The stings." She murmured to herself, licking the cut. It did hurt quite a bit, but she could ignore it. She had to scale the cliff side again, and that was pretty much impossible unless she had all four paws. So she climbed back up, not without difficulty, and made it back to the beaten path she had. She shook her head, ears flopping to the side then perking up as she walked. What was that smell? She peeked around a corner, seeing smoke rise from a cave not too far away. Curious, she came out and peered into the cave. It was dark, she couldn't see anything. Not a thing. But the smoke filtering in through her nose was soothing, and oddly calming. She jumped to a rock higher than the cave, perched just over it's entrance and curled up. She was close to sleep, but not there yet when the smoke slowly dissipated. She rose then, well, her head at least, in confusion. Where had the smoke gone to? And she was so close to a nice rest, too. Oh, and her paw was still bleeding, she noticed. Eck. She licked it clean once more, but the clicking of claws on the stone diverted her attention. Someone was there, she could hear him. She looked over the edge, gazing down at the black and white wolf bellow. Come to think of it, this was a pack land, wasn't it? Cassiopeia, right? "Hey!" She called down, a greeting and an attempt to alert him of her presence. "Are you in Cassiopeia? I'm a loner; might be nice to learn a little about the pack if I can." She told him, sitting then but still looking at him. "My name is Akeali." ★

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[Blackie]

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[bg=222222] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - T - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Sior startled, twisting his head ‘round to stare up at the newcomer atop a ledge. He hadn’t heard her coming – bits of rock falling and mini-avalanches were fairly common in the mountains – and he’d been inhaling the smoke long enough that would affect his sense of smell for a few minutes more. He cocked his head, listening both to her and to a few spirits. It was usually easier to hear them after his meditations, and sometimes they had a habit of trying to communicate when others were speaking. He made an attempt to block it out, listening to… ah, there was her name: Akeali. “Welcome Akeali,” he greeted. “I am Sior.” His words were followed by his customary pause as he measured his words. “I am indeed one of the Cassiopeians. There is little for me to tell, I think. It is better to see, and what we are… we are open; that is perhaps the best word for us.” He strained his head to get a better look at her. The wind had blown away the smoke that had drifted lazily out from his cave, and he could see a little more clearly now. A loner, then. And at such a fortunate time, as well. She looks… able-bodied.

[/i]

Life in the mountains was not without risk, and the Cassiopeians payed a heavy toll for the safety the mountain walls provided. Their Fire-heart had been crushed under a rock slide as he'd been taking the narrow, steep climb back to the dens. Sior had used all his knowledge of healing, including calling upon the spirits for assistance, but the call of the stars and the Great Spirit had been too strong. They'd lost him.

Everything in its time, however. Akeali's arrival was a good sign, indeed. Fresh blood and open minds always were.

His head turned, looking to the right, eyes focusing on something unseen. “Guided here, maybe?” A beat, the whisper of the wind. Then Sior nodded his head, gave a simple ‘Yes’ and turned back to looking up at Akeali. It would not be unheard of for Orion to send a spy, but this did not feel like a ploy, and no Cepheus or Andromedan wolf would ever stoop to a scheme such as this. It was too… subtle.

Not to mention the few brave-fangs his pack had, would recognize one formerly of the three other groups. There was little worry when a loner crossed into Cassiopeian territory - careful watching of the borders that they shared with Cepheus and Orion took priority. And his clan was just as careful not to cross those borders in return. Their relations with Orion were tense but respected, at least. Cepheus had no such qualms about attacking any wolf not of their pack, as far as he knew.

Such violence, for ones so strong...

“My head strains to see you. I am no attacker; merely a Shaman. Would you come down and speak with me? I swear I will not bite.” He finished with a touch of humour and a smile, as open and honest as could be.

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notes: Red is speech, white is text, grey is thought

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[.Akeali.]

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[bg=27221c] a k e a l i THOUGHTS TALKING Sior? That is an unusual name. I guess I'm not one to talk though, huh? "Open? I don't.. understand." She looked away confused, brow furrowed, thinking. She'd never heard of an open pack, well at least, not the way this male seemed to be speaking of it. She thought briefly, before he spoke again, this time saying something about being guided. She hadn't been guided, or at least, not knowingly. "Guided? Nah, I guess I just kinda.. followed the wind. Well, maybe that was m guide. Who knows." She gave the wolfish equivalent of a shrug, looking down at him. Sior, as his name was. "Sha.. man?" She tilted her head in confusion. She'd never even heard of something like that, having been raised so far away from other wolves. Curiosity pulled her from her place upon the ledge to jump down to a lower one, and then once again to land in front of him. "No swearing needed, I believe you. Besides, I think I can fight relatively well." She snickered, all in fairly good humor. "So then, what is Cassiopeia about, exactly? Like, moral values or what?" She questioned, sitting down. The wind blew strongly again, whipping away the last of whatever small cloud of smoke was left and ruffling her fur back. "I hear there are a few packs around, but the things I've heard of the others aren't.. exactly nice. Nothing but small whispers about this one though. It's weird, it has my interest piqued." She smiled, sitting and curling her tail around her feet. The wind was strong, and so was the chill. It wasn't as cold down the mountain as it was op there now. It must be some type of altitude change. The air felt lighter, too. It sort of made her dizzy, but that was fine, she could handle a little light-headedness. ★

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[Blackie]

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[bg=222222] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - T - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He cocked his head. “Open, free… we are far from chaos, but each may take their own path through life.” Sior shook his head. “We do not impose the same… restrictions, upon our members that the others might. Life is about harmony, not violence. And a path of harmony suggests open existence with the world around us.” So she did not have a guide, not yet, at least. Sior found himself wondering where she came from, how far. He himself had never truly left pack territory, except to join in the sacred travel to the Holy place. But that had been a no-man’s land, not belonging to any one pack. His spirit, in all likelihood, had surely traveled further than his physical body. Then again, do the travels of the spirit count as do the travels of the body?

[/i]

Sior’s ears twitched with a hint of embarrassment. He should have known that a loner, especially one who had never had a personal run in with the admittedly hard-to-reach Cassiopeians, would not recognize his title. He’d never met another Shaman, other than in the pack, and he’d never heard of them in the stories of Other Places either. He also got a little hint of teasing reproach from Bison, which made sense considering the spirit represented an interconnected world. “Forgive me, sometimes I need the reminder that the world outside these mountains are not as they are inside.”[/b]

He settled back on his haunches. He was not a Weaver, but this was something he could describe. He’d had a bit of practice, after all. “As I said, Cassiopeia is… open, to all comers. Our goal, in most cases, in simply living in harmony with the world around us – Mother Earth, the Great Spirit, and all the smaller spirits within the ground and plants and animals. And even that does not hold true for all of us – each must find his own path back to the Stars in the sky.”[/b] The wind was indeed blowing strong, and it cooled off his body sufficiently. He was not entirely sure how much time had elapsed as he sat by his fire in the darkness of the cave. Time was a fluid thing.

Clouds were overhead, grey and bloated. They might just hold the first snows to reach the lower reaches of the mountains. Winter: the time of change and a time to reflect upon the stark contrasts of the world. He would have to take note of when the first heavy snows came. An early or late winter, at least by mountain standards, could mean many things.

The black-and-white wolf blinked, bringing himself back to earth. Was he easier to distract with each day he inhaled the smoke of the Shamans? He hoped not – he needed to be able to focus on the events at hand just as much as those in the spirit realm. His mind whispered for his Spirit, and it responded. Sior’s mind jerked into focus on the task at hand. With this stability, it would be much harder to falter in their conversation again.

“Depending on what whispers you’ve heard, we may be more or less than what you expect. The other packs, they are not so fond of us. And we are not always friendly with them. They are wary of our peaceful ways. They mistake this for weakness. But we fight for our young as any other.”[/b] There had been a little humour in his voice, but it disappeared and was replaced with an intensity that matched his words. “To run with us in the mountains, to find your home with us, you must remember only one thing… We do not kill without reason. Ever. We protect our young, and we kill for food. That’s it. Nothing more, nothing less.”[/b]

He let his eyes half-close, the kind face coming back once more and relaxing the harsh lines he’d gained when stating their Law. “If you can hold to that one guideline, I’d like to think you will rather like it here. It is not perfect… but it is home.”[/b] A raised eyebrow. “And, if I might be so bold, with your... skills in fighting, you might find yourself in a good position. I do not pretend to know the ways of the warriors, but our strongest…”[/b] Sior grimaced. “The cliffs can be dangerous, is all I will say.

”That is… how I would describe our Cassiopeia. But my words are inadequate. I am no story-teller, but I do love my pack. And there is always room for more in a family.”[/b]
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notes: Red is speech, white is text, grey is thought. And yes, I KNOW SIOR IS BEING SAPPY. But he's such an innocent hippy, he really does feel this way.

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[.Akeali.]

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[bg=27221c] a k e a l i THOUGHTS TALKING She listened carefully, taking in the information as it was given. Harmony, eh? That sounds.. pretty nice, actually. A nice change from all the stuff the other packs seem to be in. I mean, I'm not really one for all the peaceful approaches and stuff, but I guess it wouldn't be all that bad... "A path back to the stars... sounds sorta like flying. I bet that would be really awesome." She looked off for a bit, toward the land away from the mountains. She'd come from that way, just following the wind. But now it looked so far away, a place that was once her home. She couldn't really imagine going back.. at least, not for a long time. Not until she'd tried out pack life. And suddenly, Sior was serious. Not aloof like before. She raised an eyebrow, but watched silently and listened as he told her about not killing for fun or whatever. She was a fighter, a warrior, but not a murderer. Never a murderer. "I'm too warm to kill in cold blood, don't worry." She snickered, the warm air wafting around her only backing up the fact. "A home... sounds nice. There really isn't a way to being a warrior or a fighter really.. it's just standing up for what you believe in and the ones you love. Nothin' more, nothin' less." She smiled. "I guess a family would be nice. I'm sorry to hear about your strongest, I'm sure it was a great loss for Cassiopeia." She truly did not know how to mourn for someone she'd never met nor cared about, but she could offer her condolences. "I'll probably need to know my way around and what type of things I can eat way up here,so if ya wanna fill me in I'm all ears. Seeing as I think I'll be staying for a while." She stood up, looking around, and into the cave again. "What were you doin' in there anyway?" She asked only out of curiosity, not meaning to pry. ★

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[Blackie]

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[bg=222222] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - T - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Sior cocked his head, thinking over the notion. “I suppose it is a bit like flying, come to think of it.”

[/b] He tilted his head up to contemplate the sky. The stars would not come out yet for some time; but when they did, one could sit for hours. Every once in a while, one would jet across the velvet-rich fabric, almost close enough to touch. Up here, high in the mountains, the air seemed… clearer. You were closer here, he liked to think.

The afterlife was not something he’d ever heard the spirits talk about – it was one of those things: you couldn’t bring back the dead, and the spirits let you find your own path. But that was ok, too. He’d seen enough, felt the presence of powerful beings, witnessed enough things of the Divine that he was convinced. There was no doubt, not for him. One day, his spirit would return to the pathways in the sky and the Great Spirit, once more a part of the universe. He would look down and watch over those below. No more bloodshed, no more war… just peace…

"I'm too warm to kill in cold blood, don't worry."[/b]

He flashed a bright smile at her. Even though she laughed, he was certain of her sincerity. She would… make a good Cassiopeian. “I am glad of that; our mountains get too chilly for cold blood either way. And thank you for your condolences,”[/b] He nodded his head. “While we do not follow the path of violence, this does not mean we cannot be protected. There is a very big difference between walking the path, and pretending all follow that same path.”[/b]

Ah, if only that were so. Things would be so much easier, if they were. But life was not meant to be easy, and even Hedgehog had quills to protect himself.

"… Seeing as I think I'll be staying for a while." [/b]

He nodded again. “In the warmer months we track the deer and elk in the valley, perhaps moose if our hunters are feeling strong. There are always pikas, hares and squirrels to catch if you are fast enough - but winters are harsh; the larger animals head for lower ground and the little ones burrow away to sleep through the winter. You can try digging for the smaller ones in their dens, and if we’re lucky, there might be larger prey that got left behind by its herds. But Winter, my new sister, is when we hunt the mountain goat.. That can be somewhat of a celebration, the first we catch. We follow them up their sheer cliffs, pitting our agility against theirs. Our Swift-Eyes, the lead hunters, spend much time tracking the movement of prey and setting traps and ambushes. You will find none so good as a Cassiopeian hunter at catching those fleet-footed prey.”[/b]

Sior’s ears tilted back, suddenly a little embarrassed. This is why he thought before he spoke. “My apologies, that came out… entirely arrogant. I should know better.”[/b] It was true, sure enough: he was quite proud of the hunters in his pack. They were as agile as any he’d seen, following the sheep across the icy rocks as if they had wings. Sior had seen a Swift-Eye get the one-up on a sheep by sprinting and scrabbling up a near-vertical 13-foot cliff, grabbing it as it went by.

Arogance is a pitfall, Sior. Watch yourself.[/i]

"What were you doin' in there anyway?"[/b]

He padded over to stand beside her, staring – almost fondly – into the depths of his den. He knew he’d find his little rows of herbs; the dip in the floor, now covered by dirt and soot where his fire had been; the smoke on the walls, marks of where generation-after-generation of Shamans had lit their own meditative fires; the strange crystal rock that had been passed down between Shamans (they’d never said what it was for, as far as he knew – just to keep it and pass it down again when the time came).

“Meditating, seeking guidance from the spirits,”[/b] His response was almost reverent. Communing with the spirits was a very spiritual time for him, one of the keys to finding wisdom in harmony with the world beyond their own. “Sometime I see or feel nothing… other times I get images, like dreams; only more vivid, symbolic. The smoke helps reach that state, though not understand what it means that you’ve seen.”[/b] Sior was frowning now. It really had been confusing. If the giant bird appeared to him once more, then something very, very serious was on the horizon. He wished he’d been able to get a closer look, just a little. He only needed one more time to be sure, but it had looked like…

A Thunderbird; harbinger of storms, omen of war, bringer of rains, traveler between heaven and earth… [/i]

If it was a thunderbird… based on the way it had behaved, things were going to become very, very bad indeed…
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notes: Red is speech, white is text, grey is thought. Green is Akeali's speech, cause I already have one font that's red on my table. LOL. Thinking about just making green one of the permanent 'other speech' colors on Sior's table.

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