Post by kivva on Nov 24, 2007 0:59:13 GMT -5
Location:
Snowy Highlands
================================================================================
These abundant highlands are sparse in trees, though several hardy shrubs push through the light cover of white frost. The soft grass is thin here, fading into the scattered snow on rockier ground as the incline gets higher. The mountain slopes up and away into the clouds and thicker ice, making further progress beyond this point harder and much more dangerous, for both predator and prey alike. As the snow begins to melt, the water channels down the north side, flowing into the lake found at the edge of the mountain.
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Characters Involved:
Paoro
================================================================================
The matron of the Amaranth tribe, Paoro is marked with red to denote herself as a member of such. Her marking is a little more ornate than the other tribe's females, as she is the primary mate of Chieftain Ahiga. Drawn on by her mother, the shaman, to represent her inner spirit, her marking features soft, curved swirls juxtaposed with strong, thick lines to show her gentle, but firm nature. Her coat is a little paler than the typical cougar colors, a soft sandy shade highlighted with darker tones of brown, with an off-white underbelly. Her eyes are a greyish-green color, resting above a rosy pink nose outlined in black.
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Softpaws
================================================================================
A fine pelt of gray covers the young cougar lass known as Softpaws, accented heavily by gold markings carefully gracing her slight form. Sporting the traditional markings of her species, the usual black border, gold lining her mouth and all along the length of her brow, the girl is to many, surprisingly plain - a mere long golden stripe running from her forehead, along her back, to the base of her tail as well as a rough diamond adorning the each upper foreleg. Finishing her rather simple ensemble, the girl's soft emerald eyes are raccooned white, matching the fur forward around her nose, mouth, and ear/tail-tips.
Much has befallen the lass, and yet at the same time, a myriad of opportunities for good or ill lie before her. The possibilities are endless and yet at the same time does something dark and sinister lurk over the horizon? Only the Fates will know.
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Meda
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Meda is a young cougar cub, small and round as a cub should be. Beneath her spots of youth, her tawny coat is warmed with a ruddy tone, fading into a creamy belly and facial markings.
================================================================================
Spring was still young, so breezes were not quite yet warm. But Meda did not care. Any other cub her age might have been running aimlessly, sobbing uncontrollably. But it was Meda's unusual demeanor which caused her mother to chase her away. She would prefer her 'normal' cubs to have a better chance to survive rather than the eerie-eyed and strangely dispositioned Meda. Instead, the ruddy-coated and pale-eyed Meda simply padded along as though she were out for a simple stroll, almost as though she didn't know or care what potential danger she was in.
The snow atop the peak of the mountain is present year-round, but with the arrival of spring, it's at least beginning to thin down a bit. Padding through the white covering the ground, Paoro seems to be seeking out a particular scent, but whether it's of a friend or prey, one can't yet tell. Picking up motion in her peripheral vision, the cougaress looks up to sight the brazenly obvious cub, and her whiskers twitch slightly as it approaches. "Young one?" she calls out, attempting to catch its attention.
The cub stops at the sound of an adult cougar's voice. Meda looks toward Paoro almost dully, and then she realises that this is not her mother. She takes a few steps in reverse, then stops. "Yes, Lady?" she calls back respectfully.
"What are you doing, roaming alone through these lands?" Paoro inquires gently, an inherent characteristic of her motherly demeanor. She does not yet approach the young cub, sensing her apprehension, but merely settles down on her haunches in order to make herself appear less threatening in her larger size. "Are your parents nearby?"
"I'm not sure what else to do, Lady. I thought I might hunt for rodents." Meda pads a bit closer to Paoro, her body language inviting the cub nearer, but she stops before coming too close to the adult cougar. "My Mother is some distance away, Lady," she states, looking at the pebbles at her paws. "She does not wish for my return. You are concerned?"
Paoro listens to the cub's story, and then offers her indeed concerned reply: "Yes, child. One so young as yourself will not be easily able to survive on your own. I am deeply sorry that your mother has pushed you out of your nest so young, and while I have not had children of my own for some time, I am the Matron of a tribe of females, all of whom would be able to help raise you until you are healthy enough to take care of yourself."
Meda listens to the Matron intently. She gives a nod, fully aware of the death sentence her mother issued her when she drove her away. She sits back on her haunches, relaxing. She let a smile trickle through her previously saddened expression like a stray sunbeam through a dark cloud. But it faded quickly. "Why would you do this?"
"Because the spirits would not look kindly upon me if I were to ignore the needs of a helpless child," Paoro replies, curling her tail around her side. 'Mercy' seems like it would be a rather foreign idea to a large predator such as Paoro, but the shaman-in-training does what she can to both live and let live, such as picking off the old and injured instead of the young and healthy. "What is your name, young one? I am called Paoro."
"The Spirits?" Meda inquired in form, but not in voice. The young cub's expression glazed momentarily, as though in deeper thought than a cub her age would normally delve. Her pale eyes then flickered back up to meet Paoro's gaze, Meda realizing a moment of silence had passed between them. "You are very kind, Matron Paoro," the cub lowered her head in respect. "I am Meda, and I wish to one day repay your kindness... I would expect that the Spirits would desire my doing so."
"Yes, my child. The spirits...if you like, I can tell you many things about them," Paoro replies, smiling at the compliment. "Very well then, Meda. You are now on a path to becoming a Sister in the Amaranth tribe. Shamaness Donoma will place a marking upon you to designate you as one of us."
Meda's talk of strange occurrences involving her and her family which had put off her mother. Certainly the Spirits made her mother drive her out, knowing she did not belong in spirit with her mother of birth. It was now the cub expressed a fully formed smile. "I look forward to meeting Shamaness Donoma."
Ah, but it seems that the pair is not entirely alone as the situation changes as the Fates are aught to meddle. Though rather barren in these heights, there is cover enough for one to approach with relative impunity as long as they're willing to take the risk involved; brief instances of exposure only caught by the experienced or wary eye as one moves from brush to drift to boulder. Of course, this requires one to actually make use of such - and the approach of this particular gray lass is anything but subtle. Adolescence aside having it's perks, it's also has it's detriments... namely in the manner of still growing into one's gangly form... Oversized paws and a miscalculation in one's own strength and weight also play into the role. Ergo, a soft clatter of falling rocks followed by a loud protest just out of sight announces the presence of Softpaws... Ah. Youth.
"I am afraid you're the youngest member of our tribe at the moment, however," Paoro continues, having not given birth to another litter this year. "But perhaps your youth will serve to draw in the other Sisters as maternal stand-ins in the end anyway," she adds with a chuckle. One of her ears flicks back at the sound of shifting rocks, and she turns to sight the grey-furred adolescent. "Good afternoon, Softpaws. I trust this winter has not been too harsh on you?"
Meda nods solemnly. "I will do my best to learn quickly, I do not wish to be a bur-" The cub's gaze is captured by the sudden disturbance. Instinctively, the cub stands and takes yet another step toward Paoro, only to sit and settle at the Matron's apparent familiarity with the stranger.
"Of course not m'lady." Comes the reply from the addled adolescent as she returns to her paws and steps out from behind the small rise from whence she slipped, doing her best to act as if her poor footing hadn't even occurred. Gliding forward across the snow-dusted rocks of the local terrain, the gray lass with golden highlights and markings approaches closer - aiming to proceed to within a more comfortable conversation range, "T'is but a small challenge, and those are always welcome." Emerald eyes shift to the youngster present and a brow ridge arches... no marking(s). "One of yours I presume?"
Paoro chuckles. "No, I feel I'm growing too old to have yet another litter of cubs," she replies with a smile. "She has been abandoned by her mother, and so I have taken her in among the tribe. Perhaps if you're feeling maternal enough sometime, you can help out in the caring of her," she muses with a wink at Softpaws, who hasn't seemed very motherly ever since they first met. But, first appearances could very well be deceiving. "Her name is Meda. Meda, this is Softpaws, a Sister of Amaranth."
Meda lowers her head respectfully to Softpaws, in her own sort of bow. Her pale eyes flicker up with curiosity at the new cougaress, "The Spirits led me to Matron Paoro, Lady Softpaws." Meda returned to her sitting position. "Amaranth Sisters will no doubt save my life." The cub's striking awareness of the dark side of life could be almost unsettling, but it was magnified by her cold voice as she spoke of such darkness. "I will be forever grateful." She offered a small smile.
Softpaws gives the small cub a long measuring look... then snorts and shakes her head. Creepy kid. She for one has always been somewhat skeptical of all this talk of Spirits and how they guide their chosen patrons. Seems to her that while, yes, there could be some greater force or forces guiding them, she has yet to see any concrete evidence of them that couldn't be explained otherwise. What was it her own mother used to say? When presented with two or more possibilities to answer a given question, the one that requires less variables, unknowns, or suppositions generally is the one that is true? "I suspect the lady is being modest," Softpaws finally answers, turning to smile and sitting in one smooth movement, "M'lady is seemingly in her prime and has some summers left to her still." The comment about her being maternal, or not, still elicits further pause from the lass, and with a wary glance at the cub once more, she continues, "... ... I suppose I could stand in to care for the little one once in a while, though you full well know I prefer to work alone." Yep. No telling what trouble the cub would cause as she's nosing around the outskirts of the Viridian Wolf pack's territory. Things there of late have gotten... interesting from what she's heard - interesting enough to perk her curiosity at the least enough to warrant further investigation... in due time of course.
Paoro smiles and bows her head slightly at the compliment, ears cupping forward as Softpaws continues speaking. "Well, I'd certainly appreciate any help the community can provide," she replies, turning her gaze to the young cougar. "You seem to be quite interested in the spirit realm, Meda. Perhaps you will be lucky enough to find your own spirit guide someday, as my own children have. In the meantime, I would be glad to tell you everything I know about the spirits who watch over us."
Meda looks at Softpaws, unsurprised by her wary glance, which simply made Meda think of her mother. Meda opens her mouth, pondering what Paoro says. She finally replies, delayed but not hesitant. "My interest in it is what disturbed my mother... My brothers too did not like to speak of such things." She flicks an ear in deep interest! 'Spirit guide!' Oh what a wonderful thing! Meda smiled broadly. "I have not heard of Spirit Guides," Meda admitted but their title was fairly self explanatory, "but I hope I am worthy of one. I would love to learn whatever you might offer me, Matron Paoro."
Softpaws snorts amusedly, "Be forewarned little one that should we be spending any time together, it will be spent on practical matters - not merely upon mystical tithes." Softpaws shakes her head and takes a moment to curl her tail about her forepaws, looking from first the Paoro then to the youngster, a mild rolling of the eyes evident. "As I'm sure the matron will agree - the Spirits won't help anyone who won't help themselves." Hokey religions and ancient weapons are no match for a good blaster at your side, kid. ... ...
[OOC] Softpaws apologizes for the Star Wars quote. XD It seemed apt though and was begging to be used.
[OOC] Paoro says, "XD"
[OOC] Meda lols!
Paoro chuckles at Softpaws' response regarding religious matters - the Sisters are free to believe whatever they wish. It's stretching their natural tendencies enough to have a community of females, but requiring all to hold to a set system of beliefs would likely push things too far. "Of course, Softpaws. Meda, the heart of the tribelands is the mesa to the south, just so you know. And should you wish to sleep inside the cozy birthing den, it's on the side of the mountain as you travel down the slope to the lowlands. Also, those of our tribe bear a marking similar to the ones found on both Softpaws and myself; if you are approached by someone not bearing this mark, then immediately locate a Sister," Paoro explains, giving the typical 'don't talk to strangers' speech.
Meda listens intently to both Softpaws and Paoro. "Of course, Lady Softpaws," the cub nodded. "I must learn how to hunt and how to fight. No Spirits can teach me that." she agreed. "I think it would displease them to think I would lean on them," she nodded. "I will not lean on you either, Lady. I will do everything I can on my own." Optimistic words for her age, she knew, but she wanted to try to avoid burdening anyone as she tried to say earlier. She turned to Paoro. "Thank you," her voice was tinged with relief about a place to sleep. Her tender young body was cold already. She looked at both Softpaws' and Paoro's markings, absorbing the information with a nod. "I will."
Softpaws's own markings don't tend to vary much generally, not without good cause at least - a mere simple small trio of simple paw-toe markings overlaying the natural golden diamond shaped patterns on her shoulder. To her, each one of them has some significance - at least two of them representing a wolf she took down on her travels. The third... well, that's a story for another time. Arching her brow at the youngster, Softpaws decides an answer can wait in coming - it is Paoro's show after all, is it not?
Meda observes Softpaws' markings. "You are a lovely cougar," she says admiringly.
'Wonderful girl. Either I'm going to kill her or I'm beginning to like her.' Softpaws mentally asides to herself as she scowls in the little one's direction, narrowing her eyes at the blatant attempt at a compliment, "Flattery will get you no where young one." Now what? Paoro's silence only adds to the adolescent's agitation regarding the whole situation. 'Cubs... Nasty little vermin.' ... What? Does she expect her do actually do something with this morsel of flesh and bones? May the Spirits help this lass should she ever have cubs of her own... "... Give your regards and goodbyes to the Lady scamp, and we'll go get you some supper. M'lady has many more things that concern her she still needs to attend to before her day is through." She states finally, coming to her paws with a grunt and turning to begin to leave. Meh - sure. She can keep an eye on the kid for a little bit - till she can come across someone else who is better equipped to care for it that is.
Meda nods at Softpaws and then stand and trots to Paoro. Meda nuzzles one side of her body against one of the Matron's forepaws, issuing a low purr. "Thank you, Matron!" She quickly trots after Softpaws, her little tail flicking pleasantly.
Paoro smiles down at the cub as she rubs against her foreleg, offering a nuzzle to the top of Meda's head in exchange. "Of course, Meda. May the spirits guide you both." She bows her head in appreciation to Softpaws, as though an alternative method of thanking the adolescent should the spiritual wish not be sufficient.
Snowy Highlands
================================================================================
These abundant highlands are sparse in trees, though several hardy shrubs push through the light cover of white frost. The soft grass is thin here, fading into the scattered snow on rockier ground as the incline gets higher. The mountain slopes up and away into the clouds and thicker ice, making further progress beyond this point harder and much more dangerous, for both predator and prey alike. As the snow begins to melt, the water channels down the north side, flowing into the lake found at the edge of the mountain.
================================================================================
Characters Involved:
Paoro
================================================================================
The matron of the Amaranth tribe, Paoro is marked with red to denote herself as a member of such. Her marking is a little more ornate than the other tribe's females, as she is the primary mate of Chieftain Ahiga. Drawn on by her mother, the shaman, to represent her inner spirit, her marking features soft, curved swirls juxtaposed with strong, thick lines to show her gentle, but firm nature. Her coat is a little paler than the typical cougar colors, a soft sandy shade highlighted with darker tones of brown, with an off-white underbelly. Her eyes are a greyish-green color, resting above a rosy pink nose outlined in black.
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Softpaws
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@}'~,~ Softpaws ~'~,{@
"Continuous effort - not strength or intelligence - is the key to unlocking our potential."
-Winston Churchill
Potential - a word of tremendous power, and at the same time proportionally equal, if not greater. danger. As with all things in life, the potential of a youngster is one of the most precarious and events conspire to bring everything to a crescendo generally in swift form, and the weight of the world is foisted upon them oft unprepared. A fine pelt of gray covers the young cougar lass known as Softpaws, accented heavily by gold markings carefully gracing her slight form. Sporting the traditional markings of her species, the usual black border, gold lining her mouth and all along the length of her brow, the girl is to many, surprisingly plain - a mere long golden stripe running from her forehead, along her back, to the base of her tail as well as a rough diamond adorning the each upper foreleg. Finishing her rather simple ensemble, the girl's soft emerald eyes are raccooned white, matching the fur forward around her nose, mouth, and ear/tail-tips.
Much has befallen the lass, and yet at the same time, a myriad of opportunities for good or ill lie before her. The possibilities are endless and yet at the same time does something dark and sinister lurk over the horizon? Only the Fates will know.
================================================================================
Meda
================================================================================
Meda is a young cougar cub, small and round as a cub should be. Beneath her spots of youth, her tawny coat is warmed with a ruddy tone, fading into a creamy belly and facial markings.
================================================================================
Spring was still young, so breezes were not quite yet warm. But Meda did not care. Any other cub her age might have been running aimlessly, sobbing uncontrollably. But it was Meda's unusual demeanor which caused her mother to chase her away. She would prefer her 'normal' cubs to have a better chance to survive rather than the eerie-eyed and strangely dispositioned Meda. Instead, the ruddy-coated and pale-eyed Meda simply padded along as though she were out for a simple stroll, almost as though she didn't know or care what potential danger she was in.
The snow atop the peak of the mountain is present year-round, but with the arrival of spring, it's at least beginning to thin down a bit. Padding through the white covering the ground, Paoro seems to be seeking out a particular scent, but whether it's of a friend or prey, one can't yet tell. Picking up motion in her peripheral vision, the cougaress looks up to sight the brazenly obvious cub, and her whiskers twitch slightly as it approaches. "Young one?" she calls out, attempting to catch its attention.
The cub stops at the sound of an adult cougar's voice. Meda looks toward Paoro almost dully, and then she realises that this is not her mother. She takes a few steps in reverse, then stops. "Yes, Lady?" she calls back respectfully.
"What are you doing, roaming alone through these lands?" Paoro inquires gently, an inherent characteristic of her motherly demeanor. She does not yet approach the young cub, sensing her apprehension, but merely settles down on her haunches in order to make herself appear less threatening in her larger size. "Are your parents nearby?"
"I'm not sure what else to do, Lady. I thought I might hunt for rodents." Meda pads a bit closer to Paoro, her body language inviting the cub nearer, but she stops before coming too close to the adult cougar. "My Mother is some distance away, Lady," she states, looking at the pebbles at her paws. "She does not wish for my return. You are concerned?"
Paoro listens to the cub's story, and then offers her indeed concerned reply: "Yes, child. One so young as yourself will not be easily able to survive on your own. I am deeply sorry that your mother has pushed you out of your nest so young, and while I have not had children of my own for some time, I am the Matron of a tribe of females, all of whom would be able to help raise you until you are healthy enough to take care of yourself."
Meda listens to the Matron intently. She gives a nod, fully aware of the death sentence her mother issued her when she drove her away. She sits back on her haunches, relaxing. She let a smile trickle through her previously saddened expression like a stray sunbeam through a dark cloud. But it faded quickly. "Why would you do this?"
"Because the spirits would not look kindly upon me if I were to ignore the needs of a helpless child," Paoro replies, curling her tail around her side. 'Mercy' seems like it would be a rather foreign idea to a large predator such as Paoro, but the shaman-in-training does what she can to both live and let live, such as picking off the old and injured instead of the young and healthy. "What is your name, young one? I am called Paoro."
"The Spirits?" Meda inquired in form, but not in voice. The young cub's expression glazed momentarily, as though in deeper thought than a cub her age would normally delve. Her pale eyes then flickered back up to meet Paoro's gaze, Meda realizing a moment of silence had passed between them. "You are very kind, Matron Paoro," the cub lowered her head in respect. "I am Meda, and I wish to one day repay your kindness... I would expect that the Spirits would desire my doing so."
"Yes, my child. The spirits...if you like, I can tell you many things about them," Paoro replies, smiling at the compliment. "Very well then, Meda. You are now on a path to becoming a Sister in the Amaranth tribe. Shamaness Donoma will place a marking upon you to designate you as one of us."
Meda's talk of strange occurrences involving her and her family which had put off her mother. Certainly the Spirits made her mother drive her out, knowing she did not belong in spirit with her mother of birth. It was now the cub expressed a fully formed smile. "I look forward to meeting Shamaness Donoma."
Ah, but it seems that the pair is not entirely alone as the situation changes as the Fates are aught to meddle. Though rather barren in these heights, there is cover enough for one to approach with relative impunity as long as they're willing to take the risk involved; brief instances of exposure only caught by the experienced or wary eye as one moves from brush to drift to boulder. Of course, this requires one to actually make use of such - and the approach of this particular gray lass is anything but subtle. Adolescence aside having it's perks, it's also has it's detriments... namely in the manner of still growing into one's gangly form... Oversized paws and a miscalculation in one's own strength and weight also play into the role. Ergo, a soft clatter of falling rocks followed by a loud protest just out of sight announces the presence of Softpaws... Ah. Youth.
"I am afraid you're the youngest member of our tribe at the moment, however," Paoro continues, having not given birth to another litter this year. "But perhaps your youth will serve to draw in the other Sisters as maternal stand-ins in the end anyway," she adds with a chuckle. One of her ears flicks back at the sound of shifting rocks, and she turns to sight the grey-furred adolescent. "Good afternoon, Softpaws. I trust this winter has not been too harsh on you?"
Meda nods solemnly. "I will do my best to learn quickly, I do not wish to be a bur-" The cub's gaze is captured by the sudden disturbance. Instinctively, the cub stands and takes yet another step toward Paoro, only to sit and settle at the Matron's apparent familiarity with the stranger.
"Of course not m'lady." Comes the reply from the addled adolescent as she returns to her paws and steps out from behind the small rise from whence she slipped, doing her best to act as if her poor footing hadn't even occurred. Gliding forward across the snow-dusted rocks of the local terrain, the gray lass with golden highlights and markings approaches closer - aiming to proceed to within a more comfortable conversation range, "T'is but a small challenge, and those are always welcome." Emerald eyes shift to the youngster present and a brow ridge arches... no marking(s). "One of yours I presume?"
Paoro chuckles. "No, I feel I'm growing too old to have yet another litter of cubs," she replies with a smile. "She has been abandoned by her mother, and so I have taken her in among the tribe. Perhaps if you're feeling maternal enough sometime, you can help out in the caring of her," she muses with a wink at Softpaws, who hasn't seemed very motherly ever since they first met. But, first appearances could very well be deceiving. "Her name is Meda. Meda, this is Softpaws, a Sister of Amaranth."
Meda lowers her head respectfully to Softpaws, in her own sort of bow. Her pale eyes flicker up with curiosity at the new cougaress, "The Spirits led me to Matron Paoro, Lady Softpaws." Meda returned to her sitting position. "Amaranth Sisters will no doubt save my life." The cub's striking awareness of the dark side of life could be almost unsettling, but it was magnified by her cold voice as she spoke of such darkness. "I will be forever grateful." She offered a small smile.
Softpaws gives the small cub a long measuring look... then snorts and shakes her head. Creepy kid. She for one has always been somewhat skeptical of all this talk of Spirits and how they guide their chosen patrons. Seems to her that while, yes, there could be some greater force or forces guiding them, she has yet to see any concrete evidence of them that couldn't be explained otherwise. What was it her own mother used to say? When presented with two or more possibilities to answer a given question, the one that requires less variables, unknowns, or suppositions generally is the one that is true? "I suspect the lady is being modest," Softpaws finally answers, turning to smile and sitting in one smooth movement, "M'lady is seemingly in her prime and has some summers left to her still." The comment about her being maternal, or not, still elicits further pause from the lass, and with a wary glance at the cub once more, she continues, "... ... I suppose I could stand in to care for the little one once in a while, though you full well know I prefer to work alone." Yep. No telling what trouble the cub would cause as she's nosing around the outskirts of the Viridian Wolf pack's territory. Things there of late have gotten... interesting from what she's heard - interesting enough to perk her curiosity at the least enough to warrant further investigation... in due time of course.
Paoro smiles and bows her head slightly at the compliment, ears cupping forward as Softpaws continues speaking. "Well, I'd certainly appreciate any help the community can provide," she replies, turning her gaze to the young cougar. "You seem to be quite interested in the spirit realm, Meda. Perhaps you will be lucky enough to find your own spirit guide someday, as my own children have. In the meantime, I would be glad to tell you everything I know about the spirits who watch over us."
Meda looks at Softpaws, unsurprised by her wary glance, which simply made Meda think of her mother. Meda opens her mouth, pondering what Paoro says. She finally replies, delayed but not hesitant. "My interest in it is what disturbed my mother... My brothers too did not like to speak of such things." She flicks an ear in deep interest! 'Spirit guide!' Oh what a wonderful thing! Meda smiled broadly. "I have not heard of Spirit Guides," Meda admitted but their title was fairly self explanatory, "but I hope I am worthy of one. I would love to learn whatever you might offer me, Matron Paoro."
Softpaws snorts amusedly, "Be forewarned little one that should we be spending any time together, it will be spent on practical matters - not merely upon mystical tithes." Softpaws shakes her head and takes a moment to curl her tail about her forepaws, looking from first the Paoro then to the youngster, a mild rolling of the eyes evident. "As I'm sure the matron will agree - the Spirits won't help anyone who won't help themselves." Hokey religions and ancient weapons are no match for a good blaster at your side, kid. ... ...
[OOC] Softpaws apologizes for the Star Wars quote. XD It seemed apt though and was begging to be used.
[OOC] Paoro says, "XD"
[OOC] Meda lols!
Paoro chuckles at Softpaws' response regarding religious matters - the Sisters are free to believe whatever they wish. It's stretching their natural tendencies enough to have a community of females, but requiring all to hold to a set system of beliefs would likely push things too far. "Of course, Softpaws. Meda, the heart of the tribelands is the mesa to the south, just so you know. And should you wish to sleep inside the cozy birthing den, it's on the side of the mountain as you travel down the slope to the lowlands. Also, those of our tribe bear a marking similar to the ones found on both Softpaws and myself; if you are approached by someone not bearing this mark, then immediately locate a Sister," Paoro explains, giving the typical 'don't talk to strangers' speech.
Meda listens intently to both Softpaws and Paoro. "Of course, Lady Softpaws," the cub nodded. "I must learn how to hunt and how to fight. No Spirits can teach me that." she agreed. "I think it would displease them to think I would lean on them," she nodded. "I will not lean on you either, Lady. I will do everything I can on my own." Optimistic words for her age, she knew, but she wanted to try to avoid burdening anyone as she tried to say earlier. She turned to Paoro. "Thank you," her voice was tinged with relief about a place to sleep. Her tender young body was cold already. She looked at both Softpaws' and Paoro's markings, absorbing the information with a nod. "I will."
Softpaws's own markings don't tend to vary much generally, not without good cause at least - a mere simple small trio of simple paw-toe markings overlaying the natural golden diamond shaped patterns on her shoulder. To her, each one of them has some significance - at least two of them representing a wolf she took down on her travels. The third... well, that's a story for another time. Arching her brow at the youngster, Softpaws decides an answer can wait in coming - it is Paoro's show after all, is it not?
Meda observes Softpaws' markings. "You are a lovely cougar," she says admiringly.
'Wonderful girl. Either I'm going to kill her or I'm beginning to like her.' Softpaws mentally asides to herself as she scowls in the little one's direction, narrowing her eyes at the blatant attempt at a compliment, "Flattery will get you no where young one." Now what? Paoro's silence only adds to the adolescent's agitation regarding the whole situation. 'Cubs... Nasty little vermin.' ... What? Does she expect her do actually do something with this morsel of flesh and bones? May the Spirits help this lass should she ever have cubs of her own... "... Give your regards and goodbyes to the Lady scamp, and we'll go get you some supper. M'lady has many more things that concern her she still needs to attend to before her day is through." She states finally, coming to her paws with a grunt and turning to begin to leave. Meh - sure. She can keep an eye on the kid for a little bit - till she can come across someone else who is better equipped to care for it that is.
Meda nods at Softpaws and then stand and trots to Paoro. Meda nuzzles one side of her body against one of the Matron's forepaws, issuing a low purr. "Thank you, Matron!" She quickly trots after Softpaws, her little tail flicking pleasantly.
Paoro smiles down at the cub as she rubs against her foreleg, offering a nuzzle to the top of Meda's head in exchange. "Of course, Meda. May the spirits guide you both." She bows her head in appreciation to Softpaws, as though an alternative method of thanking the adolescent should the spiritual wish not be sufficient.