Plot: Return of Mascamora

[Relairah]

OoC: Since it's difficult for others to reply to the plot post in the afterlife, I'll go ahead and put this one here (given liquid time) so others can get in if they want :3

It was late morning, the sun in between its path from the horizon to the top of the sky. The sky itself was a clear, brilliant blue, with not a single cloud to be found. On one of the many grassy rolling hills sat a large, pale figure. She was the image of grace and beauty with an arching neck and long features, from her ears to her legs to her tail. Her fur was long and white, and waved gently about her figure. There was usually wind about these lands. Upon her chest and trailing all the way down to the tip of her tail were hard, pink scales. They glistened in the morning sunlight.

Mascamora had long debated whether or not to call these lands her home. She had left many years ago, seeking a life outside of everything that had happened. All the war, and blood, and struggles. Yet here she was, it seemed. Somehow, after she had resurrected Dulcian, he had convinced her she should give this place a chance. Perhaps she could find more meaning than she had previously thought. Her family was here, weren't they?

Perhaps they only needed for her to return.

Whatever the case may be, here she was. She needed to rest after performing a resurrection. Her body was still weak and her energy drained. The great half druiness wondered if any of the pack members would question her presence. She was technically new to the Imperii.. but not new entirely. Soon, Dulcian would arrive, she knew... and she knew whatever he had planned would begin.

[addykins]

Death had a way of dulling things. Nothing smelled the same, nothing felt the same, nothing even looked the same. So when he had taken his last steps in the spirit world and felt the earth for the first time in almost a century beneath his clawed hand he found himself almost unable to understand what was overcoming him. Emotions, opposite of those at his death, over-whelmed him and if he hadn't practiced being so exact in the way that he expressed himself, he might have hid each emotion that passed through him. But how could he succeed in continuing to secure Mascamora's help and preventing her from sending him right back to where he came from, if he kept from her the emotions that surely would tender her feelings for him? The wonder, surprise, shock. The absolute and sheer joy that captured his being.

Freed of death, for a moment Dulcian forgot everything but the sheer pleasure of merely being alive once more. Perhaps, had those feelings been able to overwhelm him, been enough to clear the darkness that shrouded his mind, he could have turned away from his plans, allowed Mascamora on her way and found himself a new life. Instead, he remembered his goals, the reason that he had died, and another emotion over-whelmed him. Obsession with power consumed him once more and from then on, Dulcian found nothing but sweet, sweet poisoned words for Mascamora. In fact, he had talked her into returning to the lands that used to be her home, used to belong to her family. They didn't anymore, and if Dulcian had anything to say about it, they wouldn't again.

His plans, however, were never shared with Mascamara, he posed as wanting a chance at a new life, devoid of any sort of wrong doings. Just wanted to be apart of something. The half-druin had parted from Mascamora for a duration of their trip, intent on finding his way to a few followers who were still alive and well, though decrepit in age they had families that had spawned children. Loyalty through family was, of course, one of the strongest sort and Dulcian intended to cash in on such loyalty. Eventually the beast made his way to the pack lands, from thick forests, to flat plains, and finally to the rolling, windy hills that Mascamora currently occupied.

He spotted her white coat from afar, and to save much time as well as to stretch his wings once more, Dulcian's muscles bunched to push him from the earth. Great wings spread wide, catching a gust of wind and finding himself soaring forward. For a moment he was lost, soaring through the sky and feeling the warmth of the sun on his outstretched wings. Eventually he found himself winding down towards the other druiness, paws out stretched to land just a short distance away from the other. "Mascamora, you've made it." He called out, tone jovial and friendly as he found himself almost prancing up the hill towards her. Energy had filled him as of late, creating the effect of a rowdy pup intent on play. Barely, could he reign in such a side of himself, but it helped with the demeanor he desired to portray to Mascamora. "Have you come across any others?"

[Relairah]

OoC: Sorry for the wait, lub! ><

iC:

The sound of wind catching through feathers caught her ear and she looked up, bi-colored eyes easily finding Dulcian's dark form. She rose from her position, smiling at him wolfishly. "So have you," she responded. Mascamora shook out her pale fur, the white locks falling about her bright pink scales. "Not yet, Dulcian," she responded.

Masca looked around. She was a little surprised that such was the case. Usually, the border patrol would have arrived already, inquiring about their business.

Or perhaps she had spoken too soon...

Another was quickly approaching, a dark yet familiar form against the sky. Wings as black as shadows beat powerfully. There was no sound of feathers nor definition to their form. But they still pushed the wind and the whoosh of their beats could be heard. Soon, the wolfess was landing, the wings literally evaporating into thin air as if they had never been as soon as her paws touched the earth. She was large, even taller than Mascamora, and her bi-colored eyes were penetrating. This wolfess could never look at Mascamora without a tinge of softness and sadness, but still her gaze was scrutinizing... particularly of Dulcian as she gazed over him. Though the longer she stared... the more her gaze seemed to soften.

This was Moriâ, Mascamora's mother. In the light, blue reflected from the depths of her dark fur and the only white on her figure was her foreright paw and the milky pupiless depths of her left eye. Despite her size, her build was somewhat petite, though strong, with long features and a partial mane about her graceful neck. A thick tuft of fur hung at the end of her long, cat-like tail and along her back were three horns in a triangular pattern, curled toward her head.

"I knew my nose didn't deceive me," she said. It had been such a long time since this wolfess had laid eyes on her daughter. The last time had been... but Moriâ quickly pushed the thought away. "What brings you here, Mascamora? I thought you had forsaken these lands. And who is this?" she asked, her gaze once more travelling over Dulcian. Moriâ was a smart creature, insightful, and she herself had always been one for manipulation of others. She was not easily fooled. Her insecurities from years before were no longer something that controlled her life.

As Moriâ approached, Mascamora's eyes followed her figure from its flight all the way to the landing and every movement her mother made. "Mother," she murmured softly, before smiling. She stood finally, and moved toward her mother, nuzzling the mane of her neck with a loving embrace. No matter what, she still loved her mother dearly. "Well, Dulcian is a friend. And he has convinced me to return. To find a home here. After all, I should stay near family... since it's all I have left."

[Xenoxice]

The breeze from high above felt wonderful blowing through the fur along Alastolan's chest and back, even more so under his wings. Flying above the land, he had been patrolling a section of the packlands to assist the dragon that had been looking over the northern borders to cover more ground. The morning sunlight was warm on his jet black fur but the cool breeze balanced it perfectly, it couldn't be a more peaceful morning in his eyes until he spotted a few figures down below him. Tilting his head to the side with great interest he attempted to make out the shape of the figures below. One of which he had recognized as one of the pack elders that was landing before the others that he had not seen before. Ready to dive in at a moments notice, he awaited to see if the two unknown figures would appear hostile to the presence of the pack elder. After seeing them begin to talk and no fighting had erupted, he began to make his descent with a nosedive towards the ground. Making sure to uphold his position and duties within the Vorlfur, he wanted to inspect the newcomers himself and determine if any threat would be made to the pack or the lands they inhabit.

Down and down he went until the ground had been but a few yards away before beating his wings with much strength to stop his descent, all the while kicking up a bit of dirt and dust. Not enough to irritate those around him however as he landed a few feet away from these strangers he had not seen before. Standing tall and confident he took a few steps closer, giving a small bow towards Moriâ. "Elder..." Always respecting rank, Alastolan never addressed anyone by name that was above his own position. Standing back up from his bow to the elder, his gaze shifted between the two strangers. His eyes held a certain gentleness while still maintaining a stern glow of command and respect. "Acquaintances of yours?" he asked curiously to the elder while never letting his gaze leave the two before him. His bi-colored eyes were sharp as ever and sizing up the builds of the wolves before him. All the combat from the war had hardened and honed his already keen senses into what could be considered instinctive reaction now. Every scent, every movement and noise they would make would be noted in his mind to know for future use. Merely one of the traits he possessed that made him such a good Cordus within the Vorlfur. His wisdom matched his senses. Not being too quick to judge the newcomers and willing to give them a chance while not letting his guard down either. Shifting his eyes to Moriâ for just a moment before returning his gaze to the others, he spoke once more. "I was searching for Varadoss.  He told me he would be coming to this area after he finished patrolling the Northern Borders.  Do you know where he is?"

[Relairah]

OoC: Gonna skip Addy for now!

iC:

Moriâ had to admit she was still somewhat adjusting to pack life. She had never imagined that she would one day be a member of a pack... and it still felt odd at times. As a noble among the Giaku Empire, she had mostly been left alone and no one had cared if she were brooding and unstable. Here... now... especially after the demon war, she felt obligated to maintain a better outward sense of self. It was true that given her past, she had also changed somewhat. But much of her inner self still remained to some degree. She brushed these thoughts aside, focusing on the new arrival and what he was asking her.

"Greetings, Alastolan." At the very least, Moriâ had done her best to remember the pack members, especially the ones that had fought and survived the war. She supposed they had all been through that ordeal together and she had no interest in being cast out due to being hated by others for lack of respect toward them. Even if she was considered nobility to some... she was glad no one really remembered her close associations with the once enemy of the world at this point. "This is my daughter, Mascamora. This other, I have no idea." Her own bi-colored gaze continued to look over Dulcian as she said this, though her gaze was not necessarily harsh. More scrutinizing and curious.

Varadoss. As the wolven asked, the image of the dragon came to her mind. If there were any member of these lands that not a single wolf shouldn't know, it was the great dragon Varadoss. After all, he was perhaps the only dragon that desired to remain as a part of the empire... Aside from his enormous contributions to the war. "I've no idea where the Primus is," though given his frequent patrols," she paused, a smile coming to her lips though it seemed not entirely a warm smile, "I'm sure he'll be around in not too much time." She flicked her tail at this statement, even chancing a glance toward the skies before looking once more between the other wolves present.

At her introduction, Mascamora dipped her head slightly toward Alastolan. Her long tail swished behind her in a similar fashion to Moriâ, though had a friendly smile, warm and genuine. "A pleasure to meet you. I have come in hopes of joining the pack. I've struggled for a long while... but Dulcian convinced me I should really try and stay with family. I suppose I should try, at the least." Masca was truly glad to have met Dulcian at this point. He seemed to have pointed her in nothing but good directions and now she was being reunited with her mother... Perhaps she might even find happiness here. These lands and these wolves were not the ones that had taunted her as a pup... Maybe she had been wrong to stay away, she thought.

[Xenoxice]

Alastolan's gaze softened as he heard the introduction of Moriâ's daughter. At least one of the newcomers had been identified. Well, both of them had as he had listened to the mention of the name 'Dulcian' from Mascamora but he still had no idea who he was in relation to anyone else. "I see.." he spoke as his stare shifted to Moriâ. "I suppose he will show up soon enough as you say." At that very moment an enormous large shadow could be seen zooming by across the ground. Looking up to the sky, Varadoss could be seen circling above a few rounds before making his descent. Alastolan always marveled at the sight of this dragon. Not only from his sheer size, but the curiosity of the things he has seen over so many thousands of years. He always wanted to ask him about the ages of past but never seemed to get a chance to talk to him for any length of time.

High in the sky, the morning sun was warm on his scales and armor, the cool breeze carried easily beneath his many wings as he soared across the plains and rolling hills. Looking down he spotted the wolves upon the hilltop and recognized two of them, but the other two he had not seen before. Curious as to the strangers who had come upon the Noctre Imperii's lands, he descended quickly but slowed himself just as fast as he approached the ground. Even for his large size, he made a smooth and quiet landing. The loudest thing being merely the beating of his wings. Setting himself down beside Alastolan, he looked to Moriâ and gave a small bow of his head. "Pleasure to see you, as always Elder Moriâ." He would then turn his head to Alastolan. "The Northern Borders are clear, I didn't see anything along the mountain ranges. Have you finished your sweep along the Southern Jungles?  Anything to report?"

Alastolan gave a small nod in acknowledgement.  "Yes, Primus.  I finished my patrol before I came here to meet up with you.  Aside from a few loners who wandered into the jungles and got themselves lost, I escorted them outside our territory and flew back, nothing to report aside from that."

"I see.  Very well."  Varadoss and Alastolan lowered their voices and seemed to carry on a conversation between each other so the newcomers could not hear.