From being an Abandoned who had rarely left the Hollowed Grounds, to embracing the call of adventure, to dying and being reborn first as an Ascended and then as an Ancient, Maea has gone through quite the amount of changes in her life. One thing remains common, though, in her attempts to find out just where she belongs; she’s always had a craving for knowledge which has brought her to so many places and to meet so many people here in Caido. We can’t wait to see what else is in store for her!
Congratulations, Maea!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
Skinning and hosting by the epically talented Kaons, and functionality fanciness by the coding magic of Neowulf. If you ever see either of them around, make sure to show them some love!
"Okay. So... bark once for yes, twice for no. Do you think that'll work?" Mateo is grinning ear to ear, of course, as they march into Ludo's Woods. The Taliesin boy is wearing his new sturdy boots and a sweater with a large bird knitted on it. He loves it, despite the fact that it's about two sizes too big and is ugly as sin, because a) nonna Vai knitted it (she's terrible) and b) he really does like the bird. It's got character.
"And if we get into a lot of trouble, you howl. Or... shift into something else, I guess?" He's not sure of the particulars yet, but that's what this is all for. If Everest is Attuned and he and Mateo want to be able to make the most of their adventures, they need to find a way to communicate. This will be a good experiment to start.
They aren't off to a great start, because already Everest is cocking his head to the side such that his overly-large ears flop. How am I supposed to know if it's going to work, when we haven't tried it yet? He wonders, flaring his nostrils once and whining. How much is a lot of trouble? Ever wants to know, but instead he just offers his friend a half-hearted bark (which should count as a reluctant yes), before padding off in his friend's wake.
Despite his hesitation and a mind full of questions, the world smells so overwhelmingly interesting in this shift, such that Ever finds his nose pulled to the ground with his lanky body trundling behind. Realizing that they should have come up with a signal for hey! a thing! Ever huffs loudly under his breath, snapping his teeth together to try and get Mateo's direction.
If I told you that you'd do nothing with it I'd still be that cigarette that you couldn't finish
Evidently, so far Mateo has only gotten as far as yes and no and everything is terrible which, if their previous ventures into the Greatwood are anything to go by, should work very well indeed. Though he's about to find a similar sort of issue in the hey! a thing! signal, having spotted some interesting looking moss growing on the side of one of the trees when Ever snaps his teeth.
"Hm? What is it, boy?" Mateo trills to his friend, unable to help himself as he beams over his shoulder. "I bet you can smell the entire world in that shift." Sighing, as if wishing for a moment that he could try it for himself, he slows his steps in case Ever's nose wants to take them elsewhere. "Have you ever had ear scritches? I hear they are great."
At least dogs are expressive enough that the flat stare Ever offers his friend should read as being unamused, though it doesn't last long. Pointing with his large snoot, the puppy wags his tail at a path seemingly made by something large and low to the ground. The boys were used to following deer paths and such, but this looked like someone had dragged a very wet canoe through the Woods.
Despite the world of smells available to him, the words ear scritches seize his every thought like some sort of magic spell. Practically tripping over himself to get to Mateo, Ever flops down on his friend's feet with his ears perked forward hard enough that the abundance of skin around his neck is stretched upward. Thumping his tail in the dirt the puppy barks once for yes, waits an appropriate amount of time, before barking again, hopefully adding emphasis to his first yes, instead of being interpreted as a no.
If I told you that you'd do nothing with it I'd still be that cigarette that you couldn't finish
"Oooooo!" Mateo is already crouching down as his puppy best friend points out the trench made by the something in the woods, his blue eyes positively gleaming with curiosity. Only suddenly there's an excitable pup flopping onto his feet with his tail thumping at the ground, and the boy is lost in his own laughter as his fingers seek to give the scritches that Ever is asking for. "I will take that as a yes," he says, only for the puppy to confirm it with two (separate) barks.
Like any good kid, Mateo gives ear scritches as if his life depends on it, and if ever he was given an opportunity to get a puppy in the future, he'd likely say no just because in his mind, he's already got one. "I've never seen a trail like that before. Let's follow it?" He assumes that was the whole reason for pointing it out, anyway, and already the boy is straightening up to march through the woods.
All of Ever's scruff seems to rise toward his ears as his eyes take on a slightly crazed, delighted shine. Groaning, one of his hind paws thumping in time with Mateo's fingers, the shepherd continues to curl himself forward against Mateo's thigh until he's just a ball of dark skin that occasionally grunts happily. It's a version of Ever that few will ever see, if only because there's every possibility that once he's no longer a puppy, he'll grow out of such antics.
Barking once, softly, Ever gives himself a good shake before pressing his nose to the ground and trotting down the trail. With each step his large ears bounce, and every now and then his tail raises as some new scent crosses that of what Ever is now thinking of as some sort of leaking canoe carrying meat. Glancing over his shoulder, the puppy yips (yips, not barks) his encouragement to Mateo as he sets off at a slow lope, pressing easily through the underbrush as the scent of leaky-meat-filled-canoe grows stronger.
If I told you that you'd do nothing with it I'd still be that cigarette that you couldn't finish
Rest assured, if Mateo doesn't realise now what a privilege this has been right now, he certainly will in the future, when Ever becomes a loping, fluffy adult German Shepherd and these days are long gone. Grinning as the puppy shakes himself off and following down the trail with equal gusto (if on two legs instead of four), he doesn't know that this smells like leaky, meaty canoes, but he can make his own conclusions. "This reminds me of snakes," he says brightly - because of course it can't not be macabre.
But then the puppy in front of him yips and Mateo is so enamored by it that he forgets all about snakes, breaking into a run to catch up. "This doesn't seem to branch off anywhere," he remarks. "There must only be one... whatever this is. Do you think we'll catch up to it?"
11-14-2021, 08:31 PM (This post was last modified: 11-14-2021, 08:31 PM by Everest.)
Everest
Though Ever doesn't stop, not when he's hot on the trail and his instincts are given room to stretch out, in the back of his mind something about this being snake like does ring true in a way he should probably pay attention to.
Must be one leaky canoe filled with meat, yes, Ever's eyes say as he looks up at Mateo. As for catching up? With a playful growl, the puppy bites at one of Mateo's boots as if to suggest that he is the one holding things up, before darting away with his tail tucked between his legs as if his friend might be intending to reach out and grab him.
Scurrying forwards and ever faster, Ever has only a single second to realize that Mateo had been more right than he had, as his paws begin to frantically back peddle. Through the underbrush he just raced through, are two massive magna vermis; five or so feet long, but easily three feet high, making them look like engorged floppy rectangles. Yelping frantically as he crashes into one of the worms, the Hart boy realizes too late that he was meant to howl if there was trouble, not yelp. Now if Mateo died it would be all his fault for having sent the wrong signal, and—
—one of the worms rounds on the small dog, opening a circular mouth filled with lots and lots of teeth. "Awhoo?"
If I told you that you'd do nothing with it I'd still be that cigarette that you couldn't finish
"Hey!" Mateo ends up hopping on one foot as Ever tries to bite at his boot, and his laughter is echoing through the trees as he races after the puppy. He's not intent on grabbing him or biting his paw in retaliation, but he will give belly scritches, and he will be relentless about it. He's so caught up in the boyish freedom of running, unencumbered and without any wolves chasing them, that he doesn't notice at first that Ever has suddenly stopped. Not until the pathetic sort-of-howl reaches his ears.
"Ever? What is-- santo verme!" Skidding in the mud that's been churned up by the Magna Vermis, he barely manages not to crash into the freakish worms who, as it turns out, have been basking in a large, muddy puddle. "Okay. Okay!" Mateo raises his hands, beckoning Ever as hard as he can with his eyes alone. "We're sorry for bothering you. We'll... just be on our way?"
Eyeless? (there isn't really time to give the creature's a good once-over), one of the worms turns toward Mateo, its teeth seeming to rotate in its mouth. (They probably aren't actually doing that, but in the retellings, Ever will absolutely swear that they were). Skittering backwards and doing his best not to trip over his own paws, Ever "Awhooooos!" again, pathetically, as he tries to put distance between himself and the slumber meat-canoes. Schluffing around in the mud, the second worm seems to heave its tail up and down in a gesture of fuck off (probably), as the first worm debates eating the boy and his dog.
Caked in mud, shaking, and with his hackles raised such that his spine looked distorted, Ever whines miserably under his breath wishing that he and Mateo had come up with a signal for do you think we can outrun them?, or perhaps even, can you make another spirit appear with raw meat to distract them? But since they don't, Everest simply looks up at Mateo, eyes wide and very blue with fear.
If I told you that you'd do nothing with it I'd still be that cigarette that you couldn't finish
Ever scrabbles in the mud and Mateo tries not to fall on his ass and do the same. He's already flecked with dirt from their running adventure, the boy's chest heaving as he looks between the fleshy rectangles with their forever teeth. "You got that right," he mumbles to his friend in response to the awhooo, and if he weren't a comparatively small child, he'd have scooped up the puppy and raced away into the woods with him.
But unfortunately he is just a kid, and so as the worms sluggishly flail their annoyance at them, Mateo takes full advantage of that fact and chooses to opt the hell out. "This way," he urges to Ever, beckoning him directly to the right and into a deep thicket of trees. Hopefully the Magna Vermis won't bother to try and follow.
Ever would have followed Mateo up a tree if that's what his friend decided, such were his pack instincts at that moment. Nearly glued to the boy's heels and with his tail so far underneath his own body it almost tickled his chest, Ever hastily scampers this way.
For their part, the magna vermis are content to let this interruption to their sunbasking go without retaliation, and though it takes longer for the toothy one to lay back down, it does eventually sink back into the mud.
Gripped by flashbacks of the time he and Paige had been chased by a molten tiger, Ever is enthusiastic in his panic. Whimpering between puffs of air and feeling his coordination begin to decline with his energy levels, the shepherd warbles a sound that's halfway between a whine and a bark, which he intends to mean, I'm not sure how much farther I can go, but probably sounds like he's chocking on something.
If I told you that you'd do nothing with it I'd still be that cigarette that you couldn't finish
Both boy and puppy share in their brief burst of panic-fuelled energy, and by the time Everest whines his complaint, Mateo's legs are also burning. He slows his steps while craning to look over his shoulder, and naturally, it results in him walking into a large, overhanging tree branch.
"Oof!" He complains, falling flat on his backside in the mosses. Chest heaving, he can only hear the sound of his blood pounding in his ears, but he has a feeling that if the worms were coming after them, they'd be louder than even that. "I'm okay!" Wheezing, he tries to roll onto his hands and knees.
"Are they coming? I can't hear anything... Cazzo, that was scary."
Where it's by accident or intention, as Mateo crumbles to the ground, Ever is instantly there, laying down on his friend's feet and shins like some sort of strange guard-blanket. Panting, which gives him a contrarily cheerful look, the canine folds one ear flat back toward Mateo while the other stays perked toward the direction they've just come.
I don't know isn't a signal they've come up with, but the pup's low whine of uncertainty will likely do just as well. Wagging his tail once, and then twice, Ever anxiously huffs under his breath as he turns around rapidly in that flighty way dogs have, and presses his muzzle into the crook of Mateo's neck. Snuffling there for a moment, he licks the boy's cheek before turning his attention back toward the underbrush where a small rustling sound can suddenly be heard.
If I told you that you'd do nothing with it I'd still be that cigarette that you couldn't finish
