Oof ouchie

✧  ✧  ✧

Heavy is the mist he walks out of, billowing at his ankles and cascading over the edge he has cultivated himself on. A tonal hymn rhythmic of the waves that crash below verberate within his confine. Stormy eyes turn to cast towards sky meets sea, a line almost blurring together as the sun kisses night goodbye. Clouds roll, blanketing him and the land with humidity, tangling the tendrils of fur that cast out in the breeze.
His chest rises and falls, salt laying within lungs and catching on the corners of his mouth. A tongue reaches out taste, a pause in his singing.  A gargoyle in appearance—hunched over. 
" - - - - - " he breathes.

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She swam through the isle, an eye out for any swarms of school fish that were gathering in particular spots. Usually they tended to one area, whether it be due to shade or something abnormal, nonetheless was wise to observe when it came to hunting. Although as she got closer to particular place ; The Dragon's Reach, she had thought to see a shadow of sorts and had to take a double check. She swam to it's peak, slowly gathering upwards to the top and gazed with a raised brow — for a wolf, one she had not seen earlier, standing to it's peaks.

He was a large, overally big then most wolves she had seen in not only height but mass itself. He was standing on the ridge, gazing out, silently so. She approached, on the side of the cliff beside him in a distance away, "hail stranger," said she, "this is Dragonford claim, where did you come from?"

he wasn't there, and then he was.

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He stirs upon hearing the presence of another, body turning towards them at a comfortable pace. A specter through the mist he spots— and with angled ears the leviathan lifts his chin. " 'eetings," with  vocals deep and slugish, coated with webs and bubbling in his throat like tar.  "—woke 'ere'".

He rises, pebbles parting in his wake as claws are dragged across rock. The sound it reverberates is like him—loud and low-pitched, scuffed and rugged. With a slow gait and head hung low, the male steers closer with slanted small eyes squinting through the cloud cover in an attempt to see the other. "Who're you?" he calls, thin tail rising half-mast behind his hips.

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Spoken like vocals adjusted, struggling the turmoil of undusting an antique doll. She'd perhaps think he was a statue undone if not for the smell of flesh and the sounds of him overall ; he breathed, he moved, and he questioned. Her ears flickered, a steady blue gaze upon him that was unfamiliar scent, but carried none besides his own. At the very least, he was not a war mongrel.

"I am Vendrussel," she so announced, "Alpha of these waters."

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A woman in the mist he spots. A gift he is given in the form of the name. Whispering it softly, lips curling to trace each vowel he searches for meaning. The words are foreign, unknown to him, and tilting a single  brow he stares blankly at the figure shrouded in cloud-flare.  Before long, he's looking back towards the waters, the roaring of waves crashing rhythmically against the stones. pieces are falling into place, albeit slowly. He understands enough. This place is not his.

'n'd this remio, — gate these blēnon? ...cliffs?" he questions.

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Jun had been wandering the lengths of the rock pillars, teetering a gamble with fate to see whether or not he would slip and fall. Yet, the universe was in his own favor today as he tip-toed along the ledge, as gracefully as the sea dragon could, before the sharp taste of salt water pierced his tongue. Open-mouthed, Jun would turn, following that scent he knew so well. Vendrussel was around.

He'd appear from the side, taking note of the larger body that she appeared to be speaking to. He looked like quite the force— a hellhound from the shadow itself, his coat plagued with dark pigmentations and sharped ear points that could cut skin. Impressive, Jun would think. Considering the time that they were in, politically, this man could be quite the nice edition to their collection of dragons. 

"Ven," the male would greet, hoping not to frighten her. His eyes scanned the male once again, a smirk growing on his face. His voice was cool, hefty, "What do we have here? A new dragon to add to the brood, I hope." His charismatic attitude flowed easily through his cadence, tone of voice chilling yet tinted with hospitality. Jun took a place at Vendrussel's side, brushing his shoulder with his briefly before he sat down, still observing the man before them.

 

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She nodded, something about him held an air of eeirness that she didn't like. A crawling at the back of her throat, and yet no immediate danger came — just a wondering, of where he came from. A cliff he stood, the waters waving within the background, and for the moment, it was only them as the gulls sounded within the air. Her ears flickered, she opened her mouth to inquire who he was, but another came to the rocks.

She turned her head, looking at Jun who approached with a usual smile, and a nickname that she wanted to frost over ; but reprimand later, for the meanwhile the woman shrugged, smiling back before looking at the stonewall stranger, "Are you?"

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Another would join, alike in color and tongue to the dark woman. Asmund would turn ears before head, abandoning the spectacle of the sea to stead bore holes into both appearances with pale eyes. Words exchanged yet again slid past his perked ears, unable to catch and comprehend but a single word--

" 'not zaldrīzes but zokla—Wolf " he would reply, tail sweeping at his hocks. "Draah gon?" 

"I not understand," A mumbling words slurring ugly compared to the other.  Edges of his mouth crinkled into frowned lines. He sought to communicate the only way he could— a large clubbed paw curling in to point at his chest. "Asmund,"

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Oh shit, this may be harder than Jun thought. Vendrussel at his side, this gargoyle-built man in front of them who didn't speak their native tongue. Great. This would be much harder than he thought. Jun cleared his throat, throwing a cautious glance towards Vendrussel, but would turn back to him. "Me—" Jun would point to himself. "Jun. Me, Jun." Hopefully that would get them somewhere.

His name was Asmund. Okay. This could work. Jun took another inhale, attempting to communicate with him once again. "You—" He'd point at Asmund, extending a paw. "Need home? Need...nest?" Jun must've looked like a fucking idiot. He hoped Vendrussel was getting a kick out of this.

At least he was learning a little bit more about other cultures...he supposed.

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"It is but a name, for our pack values dragon origin." She laughed lightly, finding it amusing how it looked that Jun was calling him a dragon, and he insisted upon being a wolf. There would be a challenge with the languages, for that was one she did not know unfortunately. Even she thoughts of the varieties on her tongue, none came similar to what he said, and the thick accent that followed. Unfortunate, she thought.

Although Jun at lead closed that gap that brought a wariness. A strange man upon the dragon's reach, standing their with a suspicion.. But it seemed to be true he was lost, unknown to this land, "if you need a place to stay as he said, you are welcomed to try our trials."

Jun spoke caveman, but she tested how well he understood the English-tongue.

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Through the blue strangers' actions, the gargoyle grasped ahold of yet another name—and just as he did with the woman's, uttered into the thick mist with tar-coated tongue. Vowels folded, lost under the weight of his strangled consonants. The two spoke with cadence developed through years, and Asmund wondered if ever, would he learn to speak it too if understand it. 

"Ho- ome," he would echo, tongue flailing. Was this land to be their home? His home? He could not remember anything 'cept the heaviness of sleep tugging at the edges of his mind. Home meant food; Shelter. Home sounded nice.

"Kessa, — yes" he would nod, placing a paw forth onto the ground to step forward with puffed chest of pride. "What iderenne... Trial? iksis bisa? — is this?"

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When the man, strong and hefty with is belligerent figure, responded with the words that Jun repeated, his face lit up. Jun smiled like a child with a bone, almost jumping out of his skin. The man nodded, understanding him. 

Jun's attitude was struck as Vendrussel spoke complexly. He'd turn to her, frowning. The sea dragon would go as far as nudging his nose to her shoulder, uttering softly, looking upward to her eyes. "Speak simpler, dragon heiress." He'd cock his head to the side, eyebrows raising and lowering. He'd pull his head away, returning to speak to Asmund. 

Jun opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. How...were they supposed to communicate this? His head returned at Vendrussel's shoulder. Her scent wrapped around him. "So..." his eyes squinted, "do you want to tell him that he has to jump off a cliff, or me?"

 

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Jun nudged her and she looked at him and smiled lightly, "he should figure it out enough." Although speaking seemed rather difficult between them all, where language was failing.. Wolves didn't always have such tongue. A time of body language was always used to get a point across, friend, foe, or just neutral? She would walk over to him, standing beside and looked to the cliff before them all.

She lifted her paw to him, a pointing, before having it drift toward the cliff, "dive." If he truly wanted to join and through the trials of the Dragonford way, down into the depth's would this man go. Although realization came, she never got a proper name ; but perhaps none would matter once renewed into the waters below.

They would learn it soon enough.

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Words continued and then a single command was ushered into the mist.  Flicking an ear, Asmund glanced to the woman with raised brow, wondering if perhaps he misunderstood. But no- she was pointing to something even he could not mix up— he was to jump.

Looking back to the cerulean-colored individual with whom he struggled to communicate, the leviathan gave a subtle nod, a promise, or perhaps maybe a thank you.  "Nyke ūndegon ao," he stated softly, and with no hesitation, disappeared into the thick fog he once came.

 Down,
  Down,
   Down—,

he fell, wind trails tugging at the corners of his face. Cracking eyes, Asmund fought to keep them open, to see what fate may await him, But the cloud cover was thick, and nothing could be seen as an eternity passed—

Until cold water hit, stinging his body and shocking him to bone.

Kicking his limbs the man sought to breach the surface, to take a deep breath from the onslaught of salt. But just within reach, another wave thrust him deep under. Pain blooming on the bottom half of his face where it collided with rock. The world fell dark, the crashing of waves ringing within his ears as his body was rocked to shore.

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permission to skip

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They watched the man fall, peering over the edge and seeing the titan drop into the abyss, making away through the fog itself. She could make out his form within the murk ; nearly blending into the depths if not for the ripples in the waters. Such a large man caused massive splash, and almost as if the sea wanted to hit back, a wave seemingly got him hold — she vaguely made out he hit something, the sudden movement of his body as the waves lightly rippled upon his movement.

Although it seemed as if destiny cradled him, for the waves brought him to the shore of the isle and she wandered down to grimace, "he busted his jaw," she said to Jun, as then looked back at the man. Although injury didn't seem immense, there was an obvious.. Difference to where his jaw now lay upon his face.

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Awakening on the beach, ghostly pale eyes cracked open. Pain etched itself through his limbs, and letting out a hoarse groan the leviathan rose from the soiled sand, clumps falling from strands of fur while others stayed tangled within. The metallic taste of blood flooded his tongue, its warmth a stark contrast to the frigid waters that chilled his body.

He moved to open his mouth, to address Vendrussel, but found no control. He had been hurt.

Bringing a paw up to touch where his jaw once laid, Asmund found it to be twisted, his teeth jutted right from the center. That couldn't be right.

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