Thread Status: Closed
Players involved: None
Characters involved: Var, Enkratis wolves
Setting: The Enkratis packlands, near the den and the Saihithe Marsh
Time: Early morning as the pack rises, no one has gotten much sleep. The month is Ganthor and the day is the 45th out of 50.
Weather: Clear skies in the wee morning hours, with more clouds rolling in as the day progresses. It's cool and pleasant, with low humidity.
![[Image: uZNOoq4.png?1]](https://i.imgur.com/uZNOoq4.png?1)
There was a distinct feeling of wrongness in the air.
It had set the wolves of the Enkratis pack on edge, and the den was buzzing with speculation on what could be wrong. Earlier that night their leader, both queen and oracle, had gone out on a solo patrol. Now the gentle rays of the dawn sun were cresting the horizon, and she had not returned. This was unlike her, and the pack now circled, whispering in hushed voices over what to do.
The sky had lightened to a pale baby blue by the time it was agreed upon that a group would spread out over the territory in search. Var was the last to leave the den, having watched several of his pack members scatter in all directions to cover the vast amount of land that made up their territory. Mercifully, another wolf had offered to search the land bordering with angel kingdoms, so the great black wolf headed out, following the river and heading towards the lake.
Word of the human oracle’s death had reached the ears of Katakarthia’s wolves, though none could recall having heard much of anything. Few questioned the old wolf if he’d ever heard of such a thing, but Var simply shook his head--though now he wondered if the disappearance of their queen had something to do with the other oracle’s death. Whether it be a hunch or instinct that drove him towards the lake, the feeling of unease in Var’s chest grew and tightened.
The west side of the lake looked clear. The scent of their queen was old; she had passed by here hours ago, most likely for a drink, but the trail now lead north along the lake’s shore. There were wolves already searching in that direction, so Var turned tail and traveled along the lake’s southern shore.
The reeds and tall grasses of the shore tickled his belly as he walked, eyes scanning the horizon for anything out of the ordinary and ears swiveling at the slightest sound. Perhaps he was just feeling paranoid over the welfare of his queen, but Var continued to be unable to shake the feeling that something had gone horribly, terribly wrong.
It was the howl that shattered the silence that froze him mid-step, his blood running cold.
The queen had been found.
Grass fragments sprayed out behind him as Var ran, his massive form little more than a black streak against the verdant green of the landscape. He crossed through the mash, wading chest deep in some places, and spotted a gathering of wolves as he rounded the northeast bend of the lake. They stood around the queen, summoned by the howl, their tails low and ears back.
Something was terribly wrong.
The queen sat motionless, facing the water, eyes open and glassy. She was unresponsive to the licks and nudges of the pack members attempting to check her over. Var gave a low growl, shooing them back with his body.
“Give her space,” he said, voice low. “Your Majesty? Is everything alright?”
It was as if his voice broke a spell. The queen’s head turned, her eyes meeting his, and as she opened her mouth to speak, her body seized. Eyes rolling back in her head as she convulsed, the queen’s legs buckled under her. The wolves around her gave startled yelps as the queen’s body bent and twitched unnaturally.
She held herself up by her front paws, barely, and opened her frothing mouth to breathe. It was a horrific sound, strained and gurgling. She wretched up water, struggling for breath as the wolves around her panicked.
“She’s drowning!” someone yelled.
“Does anyone know water magic?”
“What’s going on?”
The queen’s legs slid out from under her. Her chest swelled as though she were breathing, though no air entered, and her body went limp as her mouth clamped shut.
The wolves stood still as stone, watching. Waiting. The queen’s mouth opened one final time, pouring water through her gaping maw as though she were a living fountain. The life drained from her eyes, and the water kept flowing, with no sign of stopping, pooling around her body and flowing down into the lake.
The silence persisted for what felt like hours. No one dared move. No one spoke. No one breathed.
“What...what happened?” questioned one of the younger wolves, finally breaking the silence that weighed down oppressively on all of them. “Var?”
“I-I…” Var stammered, meeting the eyes of the wolves who now looked to him for guidance. He was the oldest among them. He had known the queen since she was young, offered her solace when her parents had died, and now she too was dead… “I don’t know…”
“Did Feaya kill her like Jackroth killed the human oracle?”
“I don’t know…”
He hoped not...
Players involved: None
Characters involved: Var, Enkratis wolves
Setting: The Enkratis packlands, near the den and the Saihithe Marsh
Time: Early morning as the pack rises, no one has gotten much sleep. The month is Ganthor and the day is the 45th out of 50.
Weather: Clear skies in the wee morning hours, with more clouds rolling in as the day progresses. It's cool and pleasant, with low humidity.
There was a distinct feeling of wrongness in the air.
It had set the wolves of the Enkratis pack on edge, and the den was buzzing with speculation on what could be wrong. Earlier that night their leader, both queen and oracle, had gone out on a solo patrol. Now the gentle rays of the dawn sun were cresting the horizon, and she had not returned. This was unlike her, and the pack now circled, whispering in hushed voices over what to do.
The sky had lightened to a pale baby blue by the time it was agreed upon that a group would spread out over the territory in search. Var was the last to leave the den, having watched several of his pack members scatter in all directions to cover the vast amount of land that made up their territory. Mercifully, another wolf had offered to search the land bordering with angel kingdoms, so the great black wolf headed out, following the river and heading towards the lake.
Word of the human oracle’s death had reached the ears of Katakarthia’s wolves, though none could recall having heard much of anything. Few questioned the old wolf if he’d ever heard of such a thing, but Var simply shook his head--though now he wondered if the disappearance of their queen had something to do with the other oracle’s death. Whether it be a hunch or instinct that drove him towards the lake, the feeling of unease in Var’s chest grew and tightened.
The west side of the lake looked clear. The scent of their queen was old; she had passed by here hours ago, most likely for a drink, but the trail now lead north along the lake’s shore. There were wolves already searching in that direction, so Var turned tail and traveled along the lake’s southern shore.
The reeds and tall grasses of the shore tickled his belly as he walked, eyes scanning the horizon for anything out of the ordinary and ears swiveling at the slightest sound. Perhaps he was just feeling paranoid over the welfare of his queen, but Var continued to be unable to shake the feeling that something had gone horribly, terribly wrong.
It was the howl that shattered the silence that froze him mid-step, his blood running cold.
The queen had been found.
Grass fragments sprayed out behind him as Var ran, his massive form little more than a black streak against the verdant green of the landscape. He crossed through the mash, wading chest deep in some places, and spotted a gathering of wolves as he rounded the northeast bend of the lake. They stood around the queen, summoned by the howl, their tails low and ears back.
Something was terribly wrong.
The queen sat motionless, facing the water, eyes open and glassy. She was unresponsive to the licks and nudges of the pack members attempting to check her over. Var gave a low growl, shooing them back with his body.
“Give her space,” he said, voice low. “Your Majesty? Is everything alright?”
It was as if his voice broke a spell. The queen’s head turned, her eyes meeting his, and as she opened her mouth to speak, her body seized. Eyes rolling back in her head as she convulsed, the queen’s legs buckled under her. The wolves around her gave startled yelps as the queen’s body bent and twitched unnaturally.
She held herself up by her front paws, barely, and opened her frothing mouth to breathe. It was a horrific sound, strained and gurgling. She wretched up water, struggling for breath as the wolves around her panicked.
“She’s drowning!” someone yelled.
“Does anyone know water magic?”
“What’s going on?”
The queen’s legs slid out from under her. Her chest swelled as though she were breathing, though no air entered, and her body went limp as her mouth clamped shut.
The wolves stood still as stone, watching. Waiting. The queen’s mouth opened one final time, pouring water through her gaping maw as though she were a living fountain. The life drained from her eyes, and the water kept flowing, with no sign of stopping, pooling around her body and flowing down into the lake.
The silence persisted for what felt like hours. No one dared move. No one spoke. No one breathed.
“What...what happened?” questioned one of the younger wolves, finally breaking the silence that weighed down oppressively on all of them. “Var?”
“I-I…” Var stammered, meeting the eyes of the wolves who now looked to him for guidance. He was the oldest among them. He had known the queen since she was young, offered her solace when her parents had died, and now she too was dead… “I don’t know…”
“Did Feaya kill her like Jackroth killed the human oracle?”
“I don’t know…”
He hoped not...
