Firiona Vie Everquest

Her northern attire, adornments and tattoo below her eye made her blend in within the tribe. With the exception of her features and size, tiny and small compared to even their strong children. She smiled watching them celebrate and drink merrily. She had not normally stayed so long when they celebrated, that is usually when she would disappear off into the nature surrounding the people and just,,,, “be”.

Her eyes widen as Stormfollower strips down to his loin cloth and the tribe follows suit. Everywhere around her were nearly naked and fully naked people. She looks up at Zask, her eyes pleading for escape. Never had she seen another person without clothing, and never had she been without clothing in front of another. She was all entirely not sure what to do.

She looks at Zasks hand, daring not look beyond, and closes her eyes. She had lay naked with nature, but she was a child of nature and had never been naked in front of others. A few moments pass and she opens her eyes, perhaps this is why she had always been a part of the tribe, yet not at the same time. She stands looking once again at Zasks hand and then into his eyes that were so kind and gentle. She shakes her head slowly with as soft a smile she could muster knowing she was disappointing him, “I,,,,, I’m sorry,,,, I cannot.” then turns to walk away. She wasn’t sure why she couldn’t. Was it really this maiden of nature was just too shy or was it something more?

Zask calls softly to Mujbura.

"Just run with me fully dressed if you must. This is a time to be united with the tribe M'Lady. Naked or not... Just run,"

Zask stands there wearing only his breeches as he awaits her reply.

She turns to smile at him, her brows furrowed with worry. She looks at the tribe which is now a distance ahead of them and then her gaze returns to Zask. She lowers her head, praying he not find her repulsive as she whispers, "As they run in their truest form,,,," she pauses to look up at him with eyes of glowing bright amber, "then see me run as mine."

With that said she begins to curl her body and becomes shorter, her skin giving way to a thick fur and her arms and legs shortening. With a soft howl to the Gods she takes a step toward him in her true form, a small wolf with fur whiter than the fresh snow. Though now canine in nature, worried eyes look up at him waiting his response, and she prays the kind Bard who had touched her gently not repel from her.

Zask had seen this transformation many times performed by Willanaome, the wise druidess of Gill-Alani.

"Very well my dear... Let us run then."

Zask pulls his drum out and begins playing a rhythm on it. The bard smiles as he turns and runs toward the tribe.

Her little wolf lips curl into a smile. She was surprised at his easy acceptance of her, but it also made her happy. She barked once leaping forward and followed behind with her little feet padding lightly over the ground.

The tribe set out single file. one after the other, with Stormfollower at the lead. Initially the fastest had fought for position behind him but none had challenged him yet. The path on which they ran headed meanderingly around rock, tree and water in a mostly northward direction. As the last of the tribe filled in the end of the line the entire tribe adjusted their speed to match theirs, still fast but now Stormfollower and the fastest were visibly restrained in their gait.

Toe heel. They padded along in their bare feet. Toe heel. Each foot patted the ground a little flatter along the ancient route.


Occasionally the line would thin out as a race would ensue between two competing members. Most who could, would lead up the trail ahead of those who tried to move up in the order of the runners, but still none dared challenge Stormfollower...yet. He ran on only looking back occasionally with his son across both shoulders now, barely bouncing as he held him braced across his broad shoulders.

The sun continued to rise and as the lopping revellers’ rose up out of the forest onto the broad rolling plains and many yips and calls went out. One man sang at the top of his lungs as he whirled on the crest of a hill.

"All five horizons
Revolved around her soul
As the earth to the sun
Now the air I tasted and breathed
Has taken a turn”

The tribe is one, running together many feet and minds, yet all one and the same. Adopting the newer members and accepting their presence as if they were born within the tribe. A clan could be no stronger.

Air breezes through fur pressing it down against her body as she runs. Soft whispers of the ancients fill her mind and she feels them all around her, surrounding her in their blessings and wisdom.

Mujbura begins to whisper the words of the Ancients as she runs aside the tribe. They fill her mind and her heart and release into the air with a beautiful tintinnabulation of the Ancients words.

One by one the word of the Ancients touches a member of the tribe. One by one the gift of their ancestors make themselves known. All who run, all are one, and all turn to the form of their tribal name. A long line of wolves run together, their leader large and strong. For they are all one, and all of the wolf, so this is how they run, in wolf form.

((Bah you beat me to it lol))

(( *EEPS* Sorry.... ))

On they ran as wolves. Even Remis had been transformed and lay limp over the back of his father. They ran right through the first day and into that night. They ran through that night and into the next day. Past that day and on until the following morning they celebrated life with their Journey of Half a Million Footfalls. In two days and nights they had covered 100 leagues exactly. Over hill and knoll, and across a terrain so wild that scarce could be seen the ancient road. But instinctively they had found their way. They had come to the foothills of the great Northron Range. A pass lay ahead beyond an enormous crater and the jagged rocks of recent upheaval. A circular amphitheatre sat dead center of the giant caldera that now spread out before them its edges nearly a ball field across. They stopped for a moment at its rim before Stormfollower gave a nod to Oakanada, a young wood elf who had recently won the second place position in a sprint that took them over several tricky river crossings. Oakanada now led the wolven tribe straight for the stage flat. Stormfollower stood aside and watched proudly as all the fine canine forms made their way down the long ramp and to the center of the massive crater. Heat poured off their backs of and a great stream rose above them slowly in the still air of the theatre.

Three wild wolves had joined the ranks and stood apart from the others as they reached center stage. There, once all had assembled, everyone stood silently panting to catch their breath. None were weary and great excitement now surged through the ranks of wolves as one by one the druids lit the seven oil fire basins that encircled the thick white marble platform that was the stage.

Transforming back into a man Stormfollower lay the still wolven form of Remis at his feet and spoke, his voice was a whisper like the onset of rain.

“Here we have come, once more to this place, to gather together and meet with our past...One cycle is over and a new one just begins.”

"Let us pause for a moment to remember how we came to be in this place. The sacrifices each has made, the truths untold. Let us remember the ones who are not with us here in body but whose spirit still reaches ours no matter how vast the distance betwixt..." He spoke solemnly now pausing often, his eyes drifting from one person to the next. Each point emphasized with a gesture as he stood in place near the edge of the gathering Remis still "asleep" in wolf form at his feet.

"To all a certain time comes when they must choose a path. Whether the path is ones ultimate goal, or simply one to find the next meal. A path must be chosen... And though paths must diverge at times, to meet once again at some future juncture, some paths lead ever away from each other in permanent and deeply definite ways...
We hope for reuniting but sometimes we know it will never be so...' The sun had now reached a high enough place in the morning sky to warm the dew in the low point in the landscape and a fog was forming around them as if spawned by their own sweat cloud. He paused for a long time his eyes now squinted, scanning the fading distance.

"Here is one such time." He picked up his son and transformed himself into The Garu. A black werewolf, the animal totem of his leadership and highest form for purposes of proper tribe trials protocol. He turned and ran out the opposite side of the amphitheatre several of the pack quickly joined in behind him including the 3 "free" wolves.

Jetamio stood among the pack, watching Stormfollower with as rapt attention as they bade him. She had no idea what was going to happen to her son, or even if she had a part to play in this ritual. All she could do was follow. Reverting to her favoured wolf form, a shaggy black wolf, she took off after him, running close to his heels.

The remainder of the pack watched the others go, some regreted not being able to follow them onward but there were reasons they had to stay. Some turned at once for the long run home but a few stayed to prepare for further celebrations at this place that night.

Stormfollower ran like the wind with Jetamio fast on his heels and Oakanada not far behind her. The rest who followed took more time getting up to speed but were soon caught up. They traveled beyond the vast crater and up into the mountain pass. The air grew more chill as the altitude and thier northerness increased. Soon they were running on snowy paths.

The three new wild wolves mixed tentatively with the others now, playing on occasion with furtive tests of relative compatibility. All the while the angle of assent into the pass had become increasingly steep. The grade was such that in bipedal form they would have had to use the occasional hand pull on a solid rock or bramble to help them up. But as wolves and Stormfollower loping like one in The Garu form, they barely slowed at all.

The terrain had become much more jagged and all around the pack it looked as if the mountain itself barred teeth at them, warning them that they grew too close to some pup or prize that the mountain would defend. Boulders sat precariously on points of rock threatening to topple down on them at the slightest sound. Maw like caves gaped out at them in silent shout from both sides and the long shadows of the passes walls were about to join as the sun now passed beyond the eastern edifice.

Now and then a small stone would be flung back by paw-fall creating a clicking off-rhythm to punctuate the padding drumbeats their feet made upon the hardened snow as a muffled drum band danced its way around rocks, ice and snow. The shushing pulls of their breaths another percussion, this one of air that added to the sound of their song alongwith the plumes of white steam on each great outward pant.

At the crest of the pass two paths stretched out to two distant horizons, the mountains peeling back to the east and west. The path at their left led north east unto a grassy expanse of rolling hills while to the north west the other path led over similar though less grassy hills to a definite northern seashore. The air was very cool but they were each their own roaring forge.

Here the shaman stopped, his great Werewolf form crouched half howl apon a large boulder, he turned to the others and spoke clearly in solemn tones.
"This path leads to the remedy for Remis, the other to the coast where a boat may be bought to take us in search of the book of our tribe." He looked from one wolf to the next in search of some clue to their individual preferance.

Oakanada spoke up first. "You know my mind Stormfollower, I will go to the caost whereapon I will purchase a boat with guild funds. If necacarry I will hire a pilot should you yourself choose the path to save your son."

Stormfolllower simply nodded and turned a stern eye toward the looming coast.