Moonshade of the Wolfriders (
holtfinder) wrote in
revivalproject2021-07-11 01:09 pm
[Howl Mingle] Wolves Outside and They Wear Sheeps' Clothing
WHO: Everyone's invited!
WHERE: The grassy area north of the memorial at Green 19
WHAT: A Howl!
WHEN: Under the light of the full moon
WARNINGS: Please put them in TLs if they apply to your story
The area has been cleared of rocks, making it comfortable for people to sit on the grass or some of the larger boulders that were already there. The full moon shines overhead, making it bright enough to see one another. While some people would put a bonfire in the center of the ring, Moonshade is doing this the traditional way; the Wolfriders avoid fire at all costs.
That said, she's gotten someone to cook a portion of the piglet-squirrels she's hunted to share with everyone, skewered and nicely charred, enough to go around. But there's also raw meat available for anyone like her, who prefers to have theirs fresh.
Moonshade directs everyone into a rough sort of circle, standing in the middle as she waits for the late arrivals. She's dressed in her usual leathers, but there's some flowers from the greenhouse tucked into her hair, something small and purple that catches the moonlight. "Thank you all for coming. My people, the Wolfriders, hold howls regularly. We sing to the moon as our wolf-friends did even before we joined them. And we tell stories. This is how we keep our history alive. I know that I don't share a history with any of you, but I could think of no better way to learn who you all are, what Way you live by, than hearing your stories, and sharing one of my own."
Her smile turns a little wry, and she glances at Steadypaw. "But before the stories, we sing." And the wolf moves from lying down to sitting, throws his head back, and lets out a proper howl. Moonshade joins in a moment later, closing her eyes. It's an eerie harmony between them--she can't help but wonder who'll join in. Or, for that matter, who'll share a tale or two.
WHERE: The grassy area north of the memorial at Green 19
WHAT: A Howl!
WHEN: Under the light of the full moon
WARNINGS: Please put them in TLs if they apply to your story
The area has been cleared of rocks, making it comfortable for people to sit on the grass or some of the larger boulders that were already there. The full moon shines overhead, making it bright enough to see one another. While some people would put a bonfire in the center of the ring, Moonshade is doing this the traditional way; the Wolfriders avoid fire at all costs.
That said, she's gotten someone to cook a portion of the piglet-squirrels she's hunted to share with everyone, skewered and nicely charred, enough to go around. But there's also raw meat available for anyone like her, who prefers to have theirs fresh.
Moonshade directs everyone into a rough sort of circle, standing in the middle as she waits for the late arrivals. She's dressed in her usual leathers, but there's some flowers from the greenhouse tucked into her hair, something small and purple that catches the moonlight. "Thank you all for coming. My people, the Wolfriders, hold howls regularly. We sing to the moon as our wolf-friends did even before we joined them. And we tell stories. This is how we keep our history alive. I know that I don't share a history with any of you, but I could think of no better way to learn who you all are, what Way you live by, than hearing your stories, and sharing one of my own."
Her smile turns a little wry, and she glances at Steadypaw. "But before the stories, we sing." And the wolf moves from lying down to sitting, throws his head back, and lets out a proper howl. Moonshade joins in a moment later, closing her eyes. It's an eerie harmony between them--she can't help but wonder who'll join in. Or, for that matter, who'll share a tale or two.

no subject
"What is it?"
He could see Zune written on it but the word wasn't familiar. It didn't mean anything in the languages Cobb knew. But there was always the chance he was reading it wrong.
no subject
He unclipped his headphones too, gently uncoiling the wire. Then he scrolled through the library until he found something he thought Cobb might like. "Carry On Wayward Son" by Kansas was always a safe bet. He paused the track and held out the headphones.
"Put these over your ears."
Once Cobb was ready, Quill winked at him and pressed Play.
no subject
He passed the headphones back over to Quill when the song was done, nodding his approval. "That's some solidly good music. Would probably do well on holonet radio back home."
It'd be revolutionary, probably. No one played music like that.