Larka

I suppose this is goodbye, then.

The time I have spent here has been, to say the least... interesting, in a good way. I'm grateful, to have gotten to know all of you, and to learn about the kind side of humanity. Perhaps our paths will cross again, though most likely not, but I will always remember all whom I met here.

I wish all of you happiness, wherever your respective paths lead you.

[Here, have some disgruntled Varg whining. Anyone who can understand wolves and/or all species will be able to tell that she's rather miffed. First the Entropi come and destroy the Park - the only patch of something even remotely resembling her homeland - and now she's without her Sight.

Again.

She's not a happy Varg, needless to say. ...Also, she won't be able to completely understand anyone who can't communicate with wolves and/or all species, though she's picked enough to gather key phrases and body language and stuff. Her power of communication with other species - including humans - comes bundled in the psychic powers package, after all.]

I cannot say I wasn't expecting this, but...

But such a wasteland, devoid of all life...

[And she lets out a piercing howl, audible at the very least throughout the standing city, as well as a good radius further. It's not a call toward her own kind - no, she knows that they aren't out there. It's simply a cry of sorrow at the state of things.]

Interesting.

It reminds me vaguely of the 'tomatoes' that were around that one time - round, has features that resemble a face, smells like it might be some kind of plant - but it's not moving.

A shame that I can't chase it, but interesting nonetheless.

Perhaps I will take up the position of storyteller this evening, Econtra, and tell you a story.

There was once a grey Varg - for those who have never heard the term before, the human word is 'wolf', but I prefer to use the more formal term for my kind - with special powers that set her apart from other Varg, and they feared her for them.

One evening, she was watching one of the pups, and she sensed danger nearby - a fox, or one of the humans' hunting dogs, my memory fails me as to which, but it doesn't matter. If she didn't move the pup, it would get attacked and eaten. But when picking it up, she bit too hard and broke its little neck with her teeth.

She was shunned by her pack and forced to live on her own from then on. After all, they didn't realize that it was an accident, and once a Varg tastes the blood of one of their own, it is said, they will never forget it, and will in fact crave it.

Many years later, this grey Varg had become the leader of a new pack of sorts, made of the strongest Varg in all the forests, and yet she was lonely. She wanted to care for a pup of her own, but she was barren. One day, she found a young black pup that had been swept away from its pack down a frozen river. Though she recognized this pup - his mother was her sister - and could have returned him, she instead used her power to convince the pup that his former memories didn't matter, that he was her pup.

She sought companionship, and to feel the love that the Wounded feel for the pups they birth. Perhaps there were other motivations that I have withheld, perhaps there are motivations even I am unaware of, perhaps she made poor decisions. But my question is this: is the grey Varg beyond redemption?

While I have been here, I have observed mankind, involved myself in their affairs when I felt like doing so. And one thing I have noticed is this: humans and the human-shaped, also, for the most part, desire companionship, and hate to be alone. In fact, perhaps it is common to all Lera, that desire to be with others of their kind. One feels that they have no more companions, and their immediate instinct is to find another, even if they have to force such.

What is beyond redemption, for humans?

It's become quiet. Too quiet, in comparison.

Quiet is rarely a good sign. I don't need to look in the water to be certain that something bad will probably happen, and sooner than hoped for.

If anyone has been injured and requires healing, I will come. All I ask is to know where you are, and that you keep in mind that I will not harm anyone here unless I am attacked first.

Unlike some beings in this place.

((ooc: strikes are muttered and only really audible if you have very acute hearing.))

[The communicator turns on accidentally, with a squish almost like a footprint in the snow - perhaps accidentally stepped on by the Varg it belongs to? ...Actually, this is definitely the case.

Either way, the microphone being the way it is, it happens to catch the faintest sounds of stalking footsteps in the snow - quiet enough that they wouldn't be too alerting to most ears, but still there.

Then there is another set of footsteps - further away and significantly smaller, but almost more distinct.

A few seconds pass, and then there is a loud POUNCE and a loud triumphant GROWL and the futile squeaking of an animated leg of chicken that's just been pounced upon and having its flesh torn off it and eaten by a very very very VERY happy Varg.

And then the recording times out. ♥]

The... mistletoe, I believe it was called, has returned.

I simply do not understand the reaction. I mean, I can see that the humans would feel uncomfortable being forced to kiss those they don't know, and tension has run high around here lately anyway, it would seem. But to decide to resort to violence in response?

Dear Fenris, they're just plants!

[The post starts out as a regular voice recording might, but as it goes further on, the speaker gets more distracted, and seems to almost forget that she's doing more than thinking aloud.]

There has been talk of those who have been returned to their homes.

The Sight rarely lies - I would have met my death at the bottom of the chasm, had they not deemed it necessary to bring me here. I have heard that those who return are returned to when and where they came from - would I, then, be returned midair, still falling? And even if I were to survive, things could never be the same. After all, I have grown... accustomed, to the humans.

Fell and Kar, Huttser and Palla, Slavka, Tsarr, Skart... [A Varg-ish equivalent to a snort] If they were to ever hear me say that, they would probably never forgive me. Well, perhaps Fell might, if what I saw that time comes to pass, and it will, but only perhaps. But much as I have always held the desire deep inside of me, I never have been a normal Varg, like them, and I've only become even less of one as I've grown.

It would be better if I were to never return. Better for myself, better for my family, better for the entire world. And yet...

[The message, of course, accidentally times out before Larka can continue.]

Winter approaches quickly - the weather is getting colder.

As there are no caves or other natural shelters here, I believe I will be spending nights in the den until spring arrives.

I hope that isn't a problem.

There is a thief who is leaving only evidence of destruction in their wake?

If my Sight were more reliable, I would use it to discover who would do so. As it stands, I will attempt to do so, much as it would likely show me something completely unrelated, if anything at all.

So this year there will be no strange transformations for this time of year.

That's good.  There has been enough trouble, with everything else.

So it will be a little longer until I join Tor and Fenris, then.

...I never believed I would be so grateful for my Sight.

[A great howl rises from somewhere in the park.  It's almost as though the wolf doing so is calling out in an, albeit simply instinctive and not exactly fruitful, attempt to reach out to others of her kind.  It can, somewhat, be heard throughout the entirety of the compound, though it's muffled somewhat by the buildings - however, it also managed to be recorded here.  ^^

It lasts for a good two minutes before fading into silence.]

I'm pretty sure the Irken is gone.

That's a shame.  Though annoying, he was... interesting.

[The communicator is accidentally (or is it truly accidental, really?) turned on with a slight crackle as a paw steps on it.  There is the soft sound of what could possibly be footprints in the nearby grass, but they're quiet and slow, as though their source is attempting to sneak up on something.  This continues for several minutes, until finally there is a loud snarl, followed by the sound of a wolf coming pouncing down on something.

For a little while longer, the sound of the wolf viciously tearing at something can be heard, almost as though eating a recent kill.  And, in fact, she is... if you can call it a kill, really.  In truth, she dragged a piece of 'scavenged' (read: from the kitchen of Mui-Pente) raw meat out to the park and is pretending that she's hunting it.

After a few minutes, having finished the meat that she brought out, Larka sighs.]

This is no way to hunt.  But what else can I do, else I lose the ability altogether?

[And then the recording times out.]

Many of the humans are singing again.

I still prefer that of my own species, but that of humans is pleasant as well.

[As the communicator turns on, it certainly sounds like Larka's voice, at least to those who don't know her well.  But the speaker certainly uses a different tone to their voice - it almost sounds like that angry boy who's always seen in a black coat up in Paj.  Hmm...]

...and of course they'd have the gall to leave this thing in a place where I wouldn't be able to find it easily...  took me almost all day to find it buried under that thing... why it was buried there in the first place I have no clue...

...WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON  HERE?

((ooc: Because Manjoume has yet to go through a transformation plot, and I was evil and bodyswitched him with Larka.  ^^))

These "tomatoes"...

They're a rather odd species of Lera.  Their flesh tastes like nothing I've ever had before - the closest thing I can liken it to is...

...well, the grass that I sometimes eat when my stomach needs to be settled.  Though, even that is stretching it.  A lot.

I will admit, however, that it has been far too long since I have been able to properly hunt.