Vivarium - Westmoor Wakes

Let's have a black celebration.

Sun, 27 Sep 2026 16:42:11 -0400

Skill: Death Touched

It was dark, everything was, the sky, the clouds above, the mountaintop, his heart.

Typical night for the Nightwish.

He snorted through his nose as he shoved himself to large paws that supported an even larger frame. One that towered over his mate as he approached her slowly, paws dragging on the stone below him as the male pressed a nose to the back of her head before skirting away into the shadows like a wraith in the night. A monochrome devil into the swathed blackness of the night.

He trotted his way near his hunting ground, thankful not many had been in it lately, and trotted through as he observed his surroundings for something to pick up and "play" with. It didn't take him long to find a badger trail and follow along it. He decided against badger tonight and followed after the trail of a raccoon, something more plump and a little less feisty, and when he found it it was a swift motion to nab it up and slam it down. His typical first move.

Pinning the animal to the ground after he had slammed it down with a heavy thump the male began to skin the creature alive, peeling back skin from flesh as he ripped an arm slowly, meticulously.

The striped, brown, creature screamed and struggled as he snarled and bit at its cheek, leaving a small gash in it as he continued. He began to tug at its tail, his forearms pinning down the body heavily, it was unable to move and all it did was wriggle and cry, scream and scramble to escape an end it couldn't.

What a lovely night it had turned out to be.

Sulfur on your breath.

Sun, 27 Sep 2026 10:07:57 -0400

Skill: Death Touched

Open to anybody!

Just Abaddon alleviating some stress <3

After everything, he felt like he had softened.

He had a wife, he was married, he was confused. He was enraged.

The boy growled, two years old now the male laid in the darkness of the den he shared with , restless he stared out into the darkness and blinked as he felt ants crawling across his skin. Lifting his head the male shuddered and stood, he shook his thickening pelt out and turned to nibble at a shoulder blade before trotting away in a grumpy way.

He snorted through his nose as he tried to find a way to enlighten himself, lift the weight he felt from all this, and alleviate the stress he felt. Everything was still, silent and tense, and he didn't like the way it loomed on him like he felt every inch of the silence.

He trotted like thunder through the brush of the mountaintop, snorting for prey as he caught the scent of another fox. His den was littered with fox pelts, cross, snow, red, he skinned and skinned and didn't stop. And tonight would be no different. He wondered if one day they would be all absent up here thanks to him.

The moon lit everything and he shuddered again as he bristled his hackles and quickly found what he was looking for. It was a brilliant white and black fox, one like he'd never seen before, and he narrowed his eyes as he honed it and struck before the animal had time to react.

He had to be careful with this one, it was for Blossom, and so he grabbed hold of the animal and held it down, severed the spinal cord quickly and let it go limp in his jowls. Mouth watering from the kill he pulled back to collect himself, a breath inwards as he held it and exhaled with gusto. He wouldn't lose control, not this time.

So with that he felt some stress gone and a sense of pride in his gift for his wife. They would wear pelts when they had a wedding like Tianlong.

Turn your heartache right into joy

Fri, 25 Sep 2026 19:54:25 -0400

For open to

The forest felt more and more empty as the days passed. Weeks, he thought. Over a full moons turn had passed, nearly two; if the others of the herd were going to follow him, he thought, they would've by now. Perhaps it was just the flower, the moths wing, and the birds call now, forced together by some magic or another. Still, it was comfortable, and they were happy for now. Jube was stagnating too, likely for the same reasons Cherry was....

Some part of him longed to find the golden bird.

The other whispered that he wouldn't know what to say if he did.

The sun had not long ago set, and darkness claimed the land all but absolutely; just a shred of hot blood-red lining the horizon where the sun refused to loosen its grip. A gentle breeze stirred through the fog, and Cherry grazed restlessly along the edge of a small meadow. Moth was... sleeping, he thought, nearby. He wasn't entirely sure the dark blob across the way was them or not, but he knew his wife was never terribly far -- close enough that stomps from either of them would draw the attention of the other.

istanbul (not constantinople)

Fri, 25 Sep 2026 19:04:06 -0400

OOC

— BACKDATED ABOUT 1 MONTH, before Altair's disappearance

The sun rose, gentle golden light twirling with the tendrils of the early-morning mist. It was met with a pair of eyes that had not slept; two wide golden saucers that embraced the sear of the sun upon their surface. And from Calyx came a series of soft hums, an eerie melody that greeted the rising sun.

From his perch, he slithered, crawling down from the low-hanging branches to sway through the dissipating mist. It took him a minute to find his footing, having now been reunited with solid ground.

Calyx smiled.

But that much was not unusual.

With a few slender motions, the male would stretch his limbs, feeling the stretch of his tendons light with a warm fire. And his song would continue to spill mindlessly from his lips, eyes turning toward the denser area of the forest as he searched for a certain someone.

Or was it someone(s) he was looking for today?

Lindito, mi amor? The words found their way out between the notes of his song, and Calyx would turn his head expectantly toward the mist. It was as if he expected the mist to take the familiar form of — and he believed it for good reason, for it was quite often that the large male would exist in Calyx's periphery.

And today was a wonderful day for a party.
Calyx would invite them all.

Lindito could properly meet Briar and Cedar!

It would be so lovely! All of them together at the Big-Fucking-Mountain for a party!

〔❁〕Moon, a hole of light

Fri, 25 Sep 2026 16:08:59 -0400

For ! I've owed this thread for forever and a day, sorry this is so late!

It had been quite sometime since she'd visited the meadow belonging to the Walosi tribe -- and despite her current condition, the empress felt as though she owed the chieftain a follow up visit.

Him and his group had not taken Izumi up as the type that held malice. No, quite the opposite -- the sire in blue had been more than welcoming to her presence the day she had arrived. It was only fair that she'd do the same -- and a hunt was the first thing that came to mind while thinking of things to do together. Yet she was in absolutely no condition to hunt anything in her current state.....the cranebird could feel herself getting heavier and more fatigued as the days went on.

There would come days where she'd even wake up nauseous or even cranky, refusing to leave her den for the day or welcoming visitors at all. Then, there are times where the isolation would make her lonely, and she'd become clingy, nosey, and willingly exist her chambers to figure out what everyone was doing. These moodswings puzzled her in ways she could never deal with on a regular day, and greatly interfered with how her schedule used to look like.

Though if she could not function properly as before, the least she could do was sort out her foreign relations. Izumi would leave the more distant travels to , but a place like Walosi which was within their region? She could deal with herself.

The empress stopped at the lining of their boarders, sending out a short call of summons for their leader. Patiently awaiting their arrival, while her eyes lingered amongst the colorful expanse that they called home.

Did You Come Here To Watch Me Burn?

Fri, 25 Sep 2026 00:55:06 -0400

The first thing Homulilly remembered was the fire.

Not the mountain, though it rose black and patient beneath the clouds. Not the forest, though its trees stood whispering in the fog as if they had been waiting a very long time for her. Not even the thunder, which rolled somewhere beyond the mist, slow and solemn, like something enormous turning in its sleep.

She remembered fire.

It was the oldest thing in her.

She woke upon the wet earth with a cough, and smoke came softly from her mouth. It drifted before her like a ghost reluctant to leave its grave. She coughed again, harder this time, until her ribs ached, and wondered with the dim astonishment of the newly dead why the flames had followed her here.

There was no fire. Only rain. Only the cold earth beneath her paws. Only the forest, pale with fog.

She lay there for a while, breathing ash.

Then she looked at herself.

Her paws were whole. Her fur was unburned. There was no rope about her throat, no wood beneath her, no blackened bones where once there had been a body. This was not the body she had died in. It was a wolf's body, strange and beautiful and terribly alive.

Yet somewhere inside it, the fire still remembered her.

And so did she.

She remembered the rope first. Then the stake. Then the faces.

They had gathered around her as though she were some dreadful thing that had wandered out of the dark. She had searched among them for one face only, because even then she had been foolish enough to believe that love might still save her.

She had loved him. She had wished for him. Nothing more. Was love such a terrible magic?

The memory answered her. His eyes had found hers through the smoke. There had been fear in them.

Not sorrow.

Not love.

Fear.

And then he had looked away.

Homulilly closed her eyes. For a moment, the forest disappeared, and she was there again—bound beneath the autumn sky, listening to the first crackle of the flames as though the world itself were breaking its bones. She could almost smell her own burning. Her claws dug into the earth. A little smoke escaped between her teeth.

The thunder rolled. Homulilly opened her eyes.

Nearby, a spider lilybowed beneath the rain. Its red petals seemed almost black in the dimness, like little flames that had learned better than to rise. She stared at it. Once, she had thought flowers were beautiful because they bloomed.

Now she understood that some flowers were beautiful because they bloomed after something had died.

She wondered which kind she had become. The fog moved around her, concealing the place where she had awakened. It seemed almost merciful. The forest did not ask who she had been. The mountain did not ask why she had died.

But she remembered.

And remembrance was a kind of life. Slowly, Homulilly rose. The world was cold. The world was quiet.. Somewhere beyond the trees, thunder gathered its voice again.

She lifted her face toward it and breathed. Smoke filled her lungs. This time, she did not cough.

Once, they had given her to the fire because they were afraid of what she might become. Homulilly smiled, and there was very little kindness left in it. Let the storm come. Let the mountain keep its secrets. Let the flowers bloom upon the graves of those who thought her story had ended.

She had been burned once for loving him. She had died believing that was the cruelest thing the world could do.

Homulilly knew better now.

The trouble, it might drag you down, If you get lost, you can always be found

Thu, 24 Sep 2026 18:36:45 -0400

Deirdre ranged. It wasn't what she normally tasked herself with, not since The Circle had saved her from the vicious cycle of wandering until death claimed her. But she figured, hey, while she was separated from them.... might as well get a lay of the land, right? So she'd traveled. Northward from that unsightly blue fire, between mountains that smelled of pack-scent and into the north. She'd enjoyed that well enough, but it was not where Blythe had settled them. It was not, could never be, home, not without her sisters and the high mother. Wherever their feet may walk, she belonged now wherever they were. So she'd followed the ocean and moved southeast, but only ended up back in the highlands where she'd been spit out by the magic that'd stolen her from her nest in the first place. If anyone familiar had been there once, they and any signs they might've left behind were long gone.
Further south led her to more beach, and eventually, more mountains - the area was thick with scents of packs galore, and it was no easy thing to avoid others. But she did, unwilling and perhaps even afraid to interact with those who were unpredictable. No signs of the church had yet tickled her senses, but Deirdre had lived and died too many terrible times to believe she would not be found.
The wastes were far from barren, their sandy plains rife with activity that kept her from moving to the end of the continent. Their marshy home was humid, to be sure, but the further south she went the more it began to look like desert and open lands lay ahead!

It frustrated her, to be so .... blind. Why were her dreams silent? She was an Oracle!

When the mists began to swallow her again, Deirdre finally knew she was close. The forest in the middle of the land wrapped her in shadows and kept the scarlet sword safe from those who might be looking for her -- even one dangerous blade was vulnerable against the might of many.
And they never came short of numbers.

The great tree guided her. Once its reaching limbs came into view, Deirdre knew how to get home. She even looked for the flame they'd been reunited beside, cursed as she believed it was, but it was gone -- moved along, extinguished, she could not be sure, only that the forest was unburned and no bodies lay where it had once hovered. None of her sisters had been claimed by its crackling tongues!

Many days yet passed before the smells of her companions blotted into her nose. But when they did! Oh, when they did. Tears sprang to Deir's jinxed gaze, and her plume of a tail picked up slowly into a wag that made her emaciated form sway with every step. For the snowy woman, it was a rather happy homecoming! Normally, she greeted them with devils on her heels or blood pouring from her own body. Sometimes, the reunion was short-lived, and she was only allowed a brief glimpse of her sisters as she delivered those demons straight to the real hell waiting for them; caught and grasped and pulled back into the blade before they could reach her, or saved and bled dry all the same by wounds already dealt. If she was lucky, she could deliver some poor girl to their arms before she was caught and killed, too.

But this time, she was merely tired. No hounds bayed at her back, no glow of an angry mob following through the forest, no shouts for vengeance. She wasn't screaming about a storm, or the 'come quick, she needs tending!' of a new recruit in tow.

Just... blessed silence. The moon, shining down through the pines and onto the onyx sand of the shore. The smells of her sisters wreathing in her nose, carried along by a salty breeze as gentle and warm as she thought the welcome back would be. A heart, thrumming with life, fluttering against her chest. She didn't allow the washing waves to touch her paws, not even close, but the sound of the sea was a comfort all the same -- which, for someone who had felt the sting of water in the nose and down the throat until blackness swallowed her, was an accomplishment in and of itself. It glittered to her side, beautiful, reflecting the moon and its near-full radiance.

One strong note spilling from her throat in a blissful song, a melody that rang across the foggy beach as she approached the stream that lead down from the whisperfen to the isles. Were her sisters dancing in the labyrinth tonight, or would she find anyone loping along the shore already prepared by convenience to greet their sister? Were they in the flowering wilds even now, hidden in the dark of night? Streaming from the cavern in long strides?

Was Ysoria home?

[ ᯽ ] Let it drown me

Thu, 24 Sep 2026 13:41:26 -0400

Skill — herbalist 1/5

for & backdated to around 08.28 ♡ any of winnie’s men are welcome to make an appearance <3

The afternoon sun was beginning to sink when Winslet decided to wander beyond the familiar meadow, following the scent of something sweet drifting on the breeze. The girl had no particular place in mind, never really did when she decided to listen to her desires.
The trail led her beneath a canopy of cottonwoods, where dappled sunlight flickered across the forest floor. She moved quietly through the fallen leaves, pausing whenever something caught her eye: a mushroom, a cluster of tiny blue flowers, or a feather snagged in the branches overhead. Winnie stopped beneath the branch, nose reaching to sniff at the tan feather. “Now where did you come from?” She hummed, eyes turning to scan the branches for the owner of the feather.
Lulled by the sense of security her men offered, Winslet allowed her attention to focus on the trees around her, unaware that fate had other plans for her today.

DOG EAT DOG!

Thu, 24 Sep 2026 10:02:55 -0400

It doesn't remember dying.

There is only breathing gone coughing gone nothing, nothing!

Nothing became something when weary eyes snapped open to a world of mist and stink and wet. Bite Dog's mouth is ebbed at by puddling mud, head slumped to the earth while its body creaks and throbs with the irritating reminder of being cognizant. Bite Dog, against instinct to avoid discomfort, merely lies in the mudwater and waits to be retrieved; not because it believes Handler will be concerned, but because it is certain this is one of Handler's duties for it to fulfill.

If it leaves before it hears the command of out, it will hear bad dog instead.

It doesn't want to be a bad dog.

It waits.

unrest in my soul

Thu, 24 Sep 2026 04:12:43 -0400

the high mother squinted beneath the sun’s heavy gaze. eyes watering, nose wrinkled, she did nothing to hide the distaste from her face.

though summer had come and gone, the sun still brought heat to the beach they’d made into their home. it warmed the black sands beneath her paws and stirred the coastline alive in ways she found almost unjust.

everything seemed louder beneath its light. Brighter. Exposed. Strangers felt more freedom to come visit.

it was different beneath the calm of moonlight, when the tides changed and the ocean was swallowed in darkness, silver breaking only where the moon touched its restless surface.

shaking her head, she retreated inland on slow, easy steps, paws uncomfortably warm from her venture down the coastline. she sought out one of the silver pools tucked farther from shore, yearning for cool water against aching pads and, perhaps, something more.

if it were not enough, she supposed she could venture to the pool of echoes further toward the forests, wondering if that would be enough to calm some of the unrest beneath her skin. though something told her, it would not be.

nothing ever was.

careful, the moon is watching

Thu, 24 Sep 2026 04:02:02 -0400

fresh blood coated the high mother’s fur. it still steamed against the darkened night, warmth billowing gently into the air around her. upon her crown, she’d layered it thick, and at her chest, she’d rubbed it in with a careful paw until satisfied.

a twisted, delighted smile graced her freckled face, and the high mother’s throat worked with a low hum. there was no ceremony tonight. no grand display for any watchful eye, no sister to bear witness or hound to understand the warning painted upon her flesh. it was for herself, and herself alone, that she adorned her expected attire.

tonight's choosing was fresh rabbit. it had taken more than one to gather enough blood, and what remained she’d feasted upon until the bones were nearly clean, leaving little behind.

had it been hound blood spilled, it would have been a different story. she would have left the earth to choke upon whatever remained of them. but this was nature. life taken so that life might continue. she would not waste what the earth so freely gave. that was not the way of the circle.

dipping her head, bly murmured an offering to the ocean and sea, to the moon hanging beautifully above, and to the circle for another night passed beneath its light. another night with sisters fed. another night with their borders quiet. another night in which the circle endured.

another night at fates mercy.

blood slipped slowly down the bridge of her nose. she did nothing to wipe it away. instead, her eyes fell shut as she rested upon her haunches, ears twitching toward the distant song of the water while her tail fanned lazily behind her.

bloodied, fed, grateful, the high mother remained.

for you i fear

Thu, 24 Sep 2026 03:48:19 -0400

time bled freely, passing the circle by.

bly missed the old ways — the village by the sea, hands coated in blood, faces tipped toward the moon with hair blowing free in wind gifted from the restless sea. most of all, she missed the familiar faces of sisters who had yet to find them, and perhaps would not in this lifetime.

for a while, she had been hopeful that more would come home. every unfamiliar scent carried on the wind, every shape wandering too close to their borders, had once stirred something expectant within her. but she knew now that it was simply not time for all of them to reunite.

not yet.

she did not possess the gift of all-knowing, nor did she pretend to hold dominion over fate. there were powers even the high mother could not bend beneath her teeth as much as she wished it so.

but she possessed enough. enough to protect those who remained. enough to keep the circle alive and its roots buried deep. enough to hold onto the hope that, if not in this life, then perhaps the next would return what this one had kept from her.

One day, the circle would be full again. Until then, those who had survived, those who had woken here and found their way home, were enough.

she would be enough.

sister? the high mother called, her voice a creeping whisper.

, her beloved and dearest sister. it was her ash tipped face that bly sought tonight, yearning for the comfort of something familiar. something enduring. a woman she had loved across years and worlds, whose presence might quiet whatever had begun to ache inside her.

You long to find escape

Wed, 23 Sep 2026 22:04:41 -0400

For <3

The Warqueen was on patrol.
Jaxxon was still away.
For now, it was left to her to hold the reigns of Jakten.
She had done it before...she felt she would likely do so again at some point in the future.

At an easy lope, her paws carried her through the terrain of slopes and mountain stone.

She checked several caches along her route.
So far, no clear disturbances.

She didn't expect to find any the further she went, thus when she came upon the sight of a strange pelt, her hackles raised as a low rumble emitted from her chest.

walking side by side

Mon, 21 Sep 2026 00:28:42 -0400

perhaps <3

Pregnancy was not treating Nana well. She has no clue how far along she is now, but she knows it must be fairly far given the swell of her sides and the ache in her body.

It's horribly frustrating and terrifying in equal measure.

The little white wolf settles down on the beach, looking across a narrow chance to the other side. It's tempting to explore, no doubt, but she wonders how upset might get if she were to wander off without supervision, and she doesn't want to give her dear friend a heart attack.

So she settles for simply watching for now, one paw tracing idle circles in the sand.

Leave me where the moonbeams Carve through the leaves like blades

Sun, 20 Sep 2026 11:56:25 -0400

Backdated to mid-late July when Saga was badly wounded & recovering! For

The healing was... going. Saga was still weak, wrapped heavily in leaves and poultice, but she was getting better. Eldritch had sent the infection fleeing from her wounds, but now the task of letting them actually heal was beginning in earnest. She was just weak, weaker than she'd ever felt in her life! But also... restless. Yearning for a return of normal, but jumping at every stir in the shadows and echo through the mist. The Fox was dreadfully paranoid, waiting for danger around every corner, and struggled with feeling... at home. With grasping happiness again even though for all intents and purposes, things should've been going back to normal.

She stayed far, far from the borders, but she didn't think her limbs could take her that far anyway. Or, at least, should. Too much walking often left her bandages tinged pink when they were changed, but Saga grew swiftly frustrated from the swap from travel to 'don't move that way or you could bleed to death'. Her neck hurt, her throat sore and hoarse still though the bruises were fading beneath her fur. Her stomach, crisscrossed worse than her throat, pinched and pulled at her skin at every motion as scabs tried to form at the edges.
Her face. Her face. Gods above, half of it was swathed in bandages too, and she hadn't yet seen the full extent of the damage... but she could feel it. The ragged patch of bare skin across her face that would never grow her glossy silver fur again, the deep pit that was once her eye; she was glad they were covered. She didn't want to face what lay beneath.

She looked half a mummy, wandering about the heart of Mistveil wrapped in cobwebs. It was humiliating enough without thinking about how ugly she was going to be.

The wind tousled her fur as she limped gingerly along a well-worn path, no destination in mind, just stretching her legs.