#chalandra

"Nothing changed."  Hmph. Nirco's soundless snarl made Cha's fur ripple angrily, and she simply snorted in response. Yeah, whatever you say Silent-paws. As he moved and the silence settled in between them, her blue eyes followed him like a shadow, unwilling to drop from him. Now that the first suddenness of the whole ordeal was past, she looked at him closer, inspecting the way his fur fit his frame, catching the way his eyes darted between Bjorn and her. He was awfully interested in the young pup, a fact that made the silver vixen warm with pride.  "What happened to you?" Nirco was the first to break the silence, watching her with those unblinking, blue orbs. She shuddered internally, reigning in her sexual deviant before it had a chance to sway her current irritability with the black wolf. He was still just as gorgeous as when they'd met all those moons ago. He was strong and well built with those broad shoulders, that thick fur, and those eyes, oh those eyes... Focus. Chalandra narrowed her eyes and forced herself to mull over an acceptable answer for the male. By now it was clear that Nirco meant her no harm, and as Bjorn was beginning to squeak softly for his mother, she relented and nestled down next to her son. He wiggled for a few moments and she watched hesitantly, before finally nudging him into a better position to nurse. Her eyes turned slowly back to Nirco, considering him for a long while before she spoke. Her voice turned soft and became absent to all her previous vexation and fire. She was, admittedly, quite tired.  "I moved on," Chalandra's pale eyes grew sad for a moment before she leaned down and licked Bjorn's head roughly. "There were two. The first was dead before he was alive. Not exactly a good season for pups." She glanced up from Bjorn to judge Nirco's reaction but shyly looked away before he would notice her inspecting him. What was there really to say? Surely he didn't want all the nitty gritty details of her rejection, her fall into slavery, her reckless night with that white male, the ensuing pregnancy, her lack of nutrition, and Sinead's continuous beatings. Nor did she want to tell him those things. She'd lived the days enough. Recounting them, in any capacity, wouldn't ever be necessary. She'd artlessly had a fall from grace, Eperna help her. And she'd managed to lose more than herself in the fallout.  Speaking of... Chalandra glanced across the den towards a small tunnel that led further into the earth. She still needed to bury her other son. The pain and grief had been too fresh when the pair had been born two days earlier. But the more she waited, the more she found other things to occupy her time, and a further, primordial fierceness to keep Bjorn living beat deeply inside her. What if she left the living to bury the dead and he was taken as well, by chills, foxes, or otherwise? She'd never forgive herself. Burial and acceptance of her loss would have to wait until she could find time between meals for herself and nursing Bjorn.  The fog was closing in again. Chalandra blinked a few times, trying to clear her head. The warmth of the den, the lack of a meal, the rhythmic heartbeat of Bjorn against her chest... Blindly, she tried to shake off the waves of numbness. Her eyes groped around the den's slate walls for Nirco's and when she met them, the blue locked. She needed to center herself on that idea. That he was here. That Bjorn was alive. And that, up until this exact moment, Sinead hadn't found her or her young pup. There was hope yet. Chalandra, her eyes struggling to focus against the tug of sleep and faint hunger, murmured a coo to her pup before presenting his name for the first time to the world.  "His name is Bjorn. For the strength of bears." Iudex knowing, he'd sure as hell need it. 

It was with a racing heart and fraying nerves that Chalandra slunk along the brushes of Einheit's most verdant section, which by all accounts wasn't very green at all. There were, at maximum, five small tumbleweeds that posed heartily as noble forest brambles, given away by their sparseness and lack of vibrancy. They were just enough, either due to Chalandra's skinny frame or general lack of mass, to shelter the grey she-wolf from her prey for the time being. The land was dry and devoid of life besides Chalandra, the fleeting sparrow she stalked, and the very scrub bushes that stood between them; time ticked ever forward as they all stood still against the howling of the wind. Had there not been a breezy chill across the desert, the day could have been mistaken for summer's arid conditions. Seasons in Einheit were revolving, changing only in temperature, forever lost to the hues of khaki, tan, and drab beige. And like the land itself, Chalandra's life was beginning to see double. With a mighty heave, the sklavin launched herself at the tiny, perched bird. Claws scraped vainly at the sky and a cry escaped her as the bird skittered away into the blue realm. She leaped once more before staring disparagingly at the retreating black form. The sparrow's chirp was lost to the wind that rattled grounded pebbles and gusts threatened Chalandra with more than one lost meal as they raced over the land and chilled into her fur. It was, no doubt, winter in Einheit.  The silver she-wolf blinked away from the sky, scanning the horizon with her blue eyes. There was nothing here to provide her pups with. There was nothing to keep her milk flowing. There was, quiet obviously, nothing here at all. Frustration bubbled at the back of Chalandra's throat as she nervously considered the situation and she clenched her jaw to hold back the howls of desperation that would give her position away. She'd been gone long enough from the den and her pup, but she also had nothing to show for her time away. What use was it to return with nothing for the life that depended on her? She'd already lost one... Whining softly, Chalandra lowered her head to the ground and sniffed desperately, hoping beyond hope that she could find something, anything to return to the den with. A lizard, some berries, a tasty root to chew on... Please Eperna. At the scent of a possible meal, she trotted slowly forward, ambling this way and that way as the images of hare grew stronger and stronger. It would no doubt be small, but it didn't matter. She'd eat the carcass of one of her own at this point. And then, before she had even the slightest moment to concede further, the wind took a sharp turn and the aroma was replaced by another, sharper and bolder smell. It was a odor she knew, one she had hoped for, one she had grown angry with. It was, unmistakably, Nirco.  Chalandra pulled up in shock, her eyes wide and her ears splayed flat as emotions swept through her, mimicking the gales across her home. It couldn't be. It wasn't. And yet, whether she admitted it or not, Nirco's scent was as fresh and pungent as the milky, puppy smells on herself. Flustered with herself and oddly heart-achingly worried for her young son, Chalandra dashed towards her den, eyes alight and her thin body trembling. Something wasn't right about this. Something had to be wrong. Something inside her screamed to move faster, that her son was in danger, that Nirco couldn't be there, that it all was a trick, a trick, a trick--and she moved like water as she ran in response to her mind, her heart racing, her thudding chest unsettled and agonizing over her young, innocent pup.  She skidded slightly as she entered the den, ignoring the ache in her paws from the harsh sand and grit that lay embedded there, forcing herself to shrink to the den walls for the sake of reaching her son. She burst into the main den with a snarl on her lips against the strength of Nirco's scent; it had grown completely and utterly indisputable and the fury and hurt buried within the she-wolf released itself as she made to crouch over her small, grey look-a-like, teeth bared and eyes narrowed. However thin and gaunt she now looked was probably easily apparent, but she pushed the thought away, staring unyielding into the male's similar blue gaze.  "You," she breathed heavily, her voice raspy from disuse. It was then that she paused to collect herself, her head buzzing and a faint fog threatening to cloud her senses if she wasn't careful. Chalandra, charged with adrenaline for her young, ignored the feeling and simply narrowed her eyes in clear judgement as she spoke. "I didn't know you were into pups these days. Oh, how things change." She was still breathing heavily, and forced her muscles to remain tensed, her fur spiked and her claws kneading the den's earthen floor. It pained her for a moment to be so abrasive with him, but then she remembered the way he had denied her and the walls built themselves back up. Try me. Just try me, you b*tch.

”So you finally decided to come around, aye Thorn?” At the sound of the nickname Sinead had created for her, Chalandra raised her lips to flash her white teeth--if only to indicate that the situation wasn't completely out of her control. She'd now given up the one thing she'd been protecting, and in that moment she felt the loss of Nirco as freshly as when she'd left him in the midst of that brewing storm and meadow grass. She realized with a jolt that she'd been preserving herself in the same manner as her name, saving herself from the heartache of letting the black male leave with the comfort she'd known. She had never wanted to give up. She'd never wanted to walk away and never turn around. But he wasn't here, she wasn't there, and the distance between them stretched too far to make up her sudden awareness of heart. And just like she couldn't return to Nirco now, she also couldn't take back the lyrical combination of sound that was her namesake. Damn. Sinead made a move to slide carefully down the array of pebbles she'd been situated on, and Chalandra stepped respectfully back for her alpha. The two she-wolves stood there then, for a moment or maybe longer, as if sizing the other up. Chalandra, while taller than her dominor, was by far the skinnier, lankier wolf. Her hips were more pronounced than they had been upon her arrival, and in contrast to Sinead's broad shoulders and chest, made the silver-grey fur look disagreeable at best. Chalandra's eyes narrowed steadily at Sinead's blue-green ones. And then, for a moment, she thought she glimpsed a hint of mild acceptance, but the perception was whisked away just before Sinead finally broke the silence and spoke. ”Chalandra,” Was that some form of vindication in her voice? Or possibly a hint of satisfaction? ”A tad bit delayed, but I won’t complain too much.” Unsure of how to respond to something other than the pushing of pressure points, Chalandra simply dipped her head as a sign of her understanding. Sinead then paused, as if considering a deep thought, and Chalandra let her mind wander back to the feeling of another that had seemingly grown inside of her overnight. There was only one male she'd been with recently that it could be. And for all she knew, he was out roaming around with another rogue female or already had a stable mate by his side. Not that it bothered her per say--she had known from the start what she was getting into--but the solitude only refreshed her ultimate longing for Nirco, which was something she'd been trying to smother for weeks now. No luck yet. At least he was good looking. It was a mediocre attempt at humor to cheer herself, and still the nerves of the ordeal still threatened to rise above the calm demeanor she'd been working with. ”I was just about to take a trip to the stream. Come.” Cha plodded along after her alpha, tail sinking into the rank worthy of a sklavin. She was exhausted, and even with the grant of water she struggled to find the means to move like the proud creature she had once been. The pair moved leisurely over the desert ground, two shadows inching across the blazing sands and rock peaks. Time reached out before Chalandra and in unison the destination seemed to shift further away with the more steps she took. ”I may even allow you to bathe. I take it you’ve finally decided obedience is your best option?” Chalandra was hesitant to respond, with her heart beating out one reply and her heat pounding out another. She desperately wanted to refuse the offer point blank, tell Sinead to shove her noble opinion and authoritative leadership where Iudex himself would never find it... But at what cost would that single moment of amusement bring her? Or, dare she even acknowledge it, her unborn pups? Being beaten for such a comment wouldn't get her anywhere, that much she'd picked up already. With the thoughts weighing heavily on her shoulders, she quietly echoed the sentiments of her rank. "Loyalty only to Einheit and to you, Alpha Sinead." And then, as if explaining herself, she made an even softer addition. "I will accept my place from this point forward." The bitterness of the situation rose steadily before fading into absolute nothingness. Chalandra, her mind drifting over the prod in her stomach, was lost to the desert. Her mouth was drier than it ever had been, and the world was monotone in her vision, a mixture of gold tones and off-orange hues where few shadows fell. She could hear the distant, faint trickling of a stream. She could feel Nirco drifting further and further away. And yet, she could also feel herself still moving on, paw step by paw step, breath by breath. She could once again feel her lungs, how they filled and emptied air. In a single blink, she knew of nothing other than those three things: the presence of water, the lack of Nirco, and the steady life that still was. Just let me live.

"What is your name?" As she sat considering her response, the anger of the place practically consumed her. Einheit, as she'd been quick to determine, was nothing more than endless stretches of sand and even longer lengths of empty, empty time. Everything lingered here. There was nothing to be done with a respect to typical constraints, and the stifling air weighed activities down as if driven steadily heavier by the beating sun. To top the whole thing off, the damn heat was everywhere. It followed her when she hunted for her appointed alpha and when she laid down for an afternoon nap, should Sinead the Great be so considerate. It was both in the depths of the dens and above the cavernous ground, in her thick forest fur and in every long, scratching breath that was equal parts necessity and want. It was, like Sinead's current reign, inescapable. "Chalandra." The voice was like rocks as it spoke, grating and hoarse against the stillness of the desert. It almost sounded like a cry for help, a quick staccato note where three long syllables had once been slurred. There wasn't a trace of reverberation either and the noise simply ceased to be, swallowed by the great vastness of the sand and grains that stretched out around the pair of wolves. From above, the harsh sunlight beat down relentlessly if not unnaturally strong, yet the grey she-wolf's blinks were slow and her breathing slower still; she had in some way become acclimated to the environment over the weeks of her enslavement. With her blue eyes narrowed downward, Chalandra explained further before waiting for a further command. "My name is Chalandra." For weeks she had avoided giving Sinead her name. For whatever reason, she'd held it unreasonably close to her, as if to share it with the Einheit alpha would spoil it or change it in some fashion. This had been her one last stand for freedom: deny what Sinead wanted the most. Every morning Sinead had asked her the same question. And every morning she had been greeted with the same, stinging silence that only Chalandra's arrogant brows and challenging stare could contrive. She had been beat, she had been run, run until her lungs screamed wildly and she collapsed from the effort. But she had not given in. Not until now. This morning she'd woken up with different thoughts on her mind, thoughts of compliance and less agony at resisting the inevitable. There was a strong, beating desire to save not only herself, but the rumblings of life she felt growing within. Two whole moons she had been stuck in this god-forsaken land as a sklavin through and through, with nothing more than her own grit to live and depend upon. She'd been on her own in dealing with Sinead's temper and wild demands until quite recently, although she wasn't sure the new sensation was anything but a rather negative addition to the whole scenario. Chalandra, with all the current mix of misgivings, wasn't even sure it had been real. She'd first felt the kick in her stomach a few days ago (although it could have been more, since she always lost count of the rising sun after three or four times before she'd be resigned to begin the count anew for sanity's sake) and the suddenness of it had startled her so bad that she'd yelped out loud during a hunt. The annoyance had cost her a sharp swat over the ears and Chalandra's pelt had burned with a mix of self-pity and anxious uncertainty. She couldn't be. She simply couldn't be. The possibly of being pregnant had never been a fear of hers previous to then, and the sheer surprise of the whole ordeal threatened to knock her over like another dreaded heat wave. Whatever the outcome would be, Chalandra forced herself to think of other things. Her mind almost immediately drifted to thoughts of water. She had been a whole day without water, due to her inability to hold back a snarl at Sinead for one thing or another the day before. It was always something she messed up. She didn't greet her mistress correctly, she was too slow at daily sprints, or the inadequacy of a hunt was her fault--even the lack of a real pack could be attributed to her presence. Chalandra inhaled quietly, now trying to ignore the black speckles that danced at the edge of her vision. The desert's glistening golden grains shifted and tilted in her vision for a moment before realigning themselves. And still, she waited. She'd not only grown comfortable with the environment in her time here (if comfortable was what this kind of functioning was), but almost wildly accepting of her role in Einheit's ranks. Her thoughts and temptations regarding Nirco had dwindled to nothing other than a faded, dark figure that slipped in and out of her dreams. He was without a face, without features, without that silent, brooding personality that she'd relished all those breaths ago. He was nothing, and here, in this place, neither was she.

"If he's spoken for, my dear, why is it that you're looking for him...but he doesn't seem to be looking for you?" Chalandra froze at the words. The glimmering outside world slowed, her motion to leave halted. Silence lapped at her ribs, her heartbeat threatening to stop completely. The other female had spoken aloud her own misgivings about Nirco's aloof behavior, and something inside the Chalandra shriveled at the possibility of truth that was buried within the female's retort. "Clearly your...what was it you said? 'Curve and cajole' didn't keep him very satisfied." There she was again. Relentless in her strike, the words cut ever deeper and the silver pelt remained further still in a mild, no-response state. Maybe what she said was true. Maybe Nirco hadn't needed or wanted her sexually charged nature. Maybe he hadn't honestly wanted that type of relationship from anyone, let alone her. Maybe she'd been wrong about him from the start. Chalandra, with her back to the land's alpha, felt herself slip amongst the solidarity she'd searched for in Nirco. With her head cluttered around thoughts of a particular black brute, it came as a complete and wild surprise when a jaw forced itself upon Chalandra. Her eyes grew wide at the sudden noise behind her, but she hadn't the reaction time to counter or even evade the oncoming assault. The jaws locked and dragged Chalandra to the ground, with weight and bewilderment working in Sinead's favor like time itself--a sheer smoothness, a sense of consistency, an inevitable happening. The silver she-wolf growled deeply as she was snapped out of her musings; she could only stagger as the two of them first collided and further scrabbled for a paw-hold over the other. Anxiety over being held down by the khaki-coated female kicked in, pushing Cha to snarl and bark loudly as she struggled against her oppressor. A ferocity she'd never experienced caught into a sudden blaze where a previous ball of ice over Nirco's indecision had laid. It's flames and fumes licked a blaze across her chest and through her ribs, catching fire amongst the parts of her that had been weary from her travels. She was born anew in that moment, a fireball of hoping, straining combat. She a freior, a free-roamer, a free wolf in her own right... And then the agony hit. A pain, much unlike any the female had ever experienced before, zig-zagged from where the alpha had latched on. Blood trickled steadily down her chest, speckling her silver with a deep, striking crimson hue. Chalandra, in all the current endeavors for a wolf like herself, had never been one for fighting. She knew hunting well enough, with survival being the pinnacle reason for doing so, but being of the hunted had never fallen to become something she knew. It was a fresh anguish, lacing her like poison as she absorbed the feeling of another wolf tearing into her. It was mind blowing, how the blood just kept falling, how the misery of such an act didn't dull with time. Her attempts to get out from underneath her tormentor slowed considerably as moments passed, and Chalandra began to struggle with the physical pain rather ungracefully in comparison to how she dealt with verbal accusations and attacks. The alpha obviously hadn't been satisfied with her inability to fight. Again and again claws ran across her sides, more scratches and scrapes that made Chaladra flinch. Every once in a while the hits would have less than stellar aim and a new scratch would bleed from her face or neck. Chalandra would snarl her feelings and the bite would intensify which drove her into a muteness that soon had no end. The silver she-wolf then froze. The glimmering outside world slowed, her motion to struggle away halted. Silence lapped at her ribs, her heartbeat threatening to stop completely. This was all because of him. Because she'd become too attached, because she'd broken her own damn rule, because she had instinctively followed the misgiving, beating organ in her ribs instead of her head. Nirco wasn't here to save her from this new hell. If she was honest, he never really had been. He's not coming...

”I don’t know if his name is Nirco, but there’s a new alpha whose claimed Groavche. Can’t quite remember his name. Big, dark furred…” At the female's words, Chalandra's ears pricked forward excitedly. Even though Nirco had never outwardly expressed himself as an alpha, this had been the most recent lead on any wolf that was both large and black. Not much to go on, but what else did she have? Memories of the male swam in her vision and she tried vainly to picture Nirco at the head of a pack. It was a rough stretch, but it was all she needed right then. Almost too obviously, she already knew his presence would elude her here. She had to keep moving. "Oh, thank you! So which way--" ”Quite the stud too, if my little birds don’t deceive me.” Chalandra had made a motion to move, but the continuation from the other female made her fur stiffen. Slowly, the grey she-wolf turned back, her brow quirked with a hesitant question boiling at the back of her throat. Who in Eperna's name do you think you are? ”If I was right about him, and you find him…maybe you should send him my way. If you don’t mind, that is?” Dumbfounded and growing increasingly irritated over the subject, Chalandra's ears flicked angrily. Almost instinctively, she bared her glimmering teeth and snarled deep in her chest. Did she mind? Of course she minded! And then, just as sharply as her first reaction, another part of her snarled back. He hasn't come looking for me. He made it painfully obvious that he didn't want me within a tail-length of him then or in the near future. Why should I care if she tries to win him over? She can't possibly be that much more successful than I was. Whether or not she wanted to admit it, the female's words invoked a certain stinging attachment to Nirco that made her stomach squirm. The thought of Nirco finding company with a skimpy female like this one--Alpha material or not--made the silver female want to shread that stupid, little innocent suggestion right off her mouth. Chalandra vaguely realized how abrasive she was being over a male that wasn't strictly her. Then agian, at a time like this, she had to finally admit to herself the truth. No matter what she had said before, she knew now that she felt passionately for him. Her currently unrequited ardor for Nirco beat fervorishly in her heart and something inside her remembered the last time she'd seen him. The expression inside thudded amongst a variant of reasons not to care for the black brute, but the tender emotions were there nonetheless. It was decision time. Narrowing her blue eyes, Chalandra paused dramatically as she sized the khaki-colored Alpha up once more. "Besides the fact that he's already spoken for, I have a firm belief that he wouldn't exactly relish the company of a wolf of your...stature." And then, adding a little more seduction and silk to her voice, Chalandra couldn't help but include another taunting insult. The blue eyes flickered dangerously and she stepped forward as she spoke, lowering her voice as if sharing a secret. "He likes his females with a little more curve and cajolery than you'd be able to provide him with anyways." Chalandra, keeping her grin smoothly elegant, if not slightly prideful, turned to leave. Her hips swung noticeably, the silver fur glinting in the sunlight. The warmth in her chest was strong and she was ready to finally find Nirco. She knew what she wanted.

After a few moments of waiting silence, Chalandra was greeted by who she could only assume to be the pack's Alpha. She seemed an interesting choice for an alpha though, if that was the case. She wasn't incredibly tall, nor did she seem exactly muscular enough to hold the terrain against challengers. But, there were no other wolves with her, and her scent was identical to the scent on the grounds behind Chalandra. Distractedly, the silver she-wolf shot a narrowed glance behind the other female, as if looking for other wolves who were following. Nothing. The air was just as quiet and dry as when she'd arrived. "What brings you to Einheit, stranger?" Certainly not a vacation. The land felt utterly stifling and for a moment the world swirled before Chalandra before she forced herself to focus. She was here to find what she'd been lacking in her life for a while. "I'm here on a search. I'm looking for a black male named Nirco." Pausing, the blue eyes surveyed the lands in retrospect from where she'd journeyed since. To think that a pack lived here... "Do you have any knowledge of him?" Chalandra took a hesitant step forward, nerves beginning to final settle in. What if she didn't know who she was looking for? Where would she go next? Just keep running to different packs asking for the location of one wolf? Suddenly, the whole prospect of finding the male loomed before her. It was easily impossible that this method would work. She'd be better off talking to the Gods and reasoning her way back into his life through the powers they held. Chalandra, feeling the dread pool in her stomach, looked desperately at Sinead. This emotional hurtle was exhausting. She hadn't felt this sincerely hopeless since she'd lost Hroth. The way they'd been separated at the Auktion Rock, torn from each other and placed in the hands of another. The thought of it made her blood curdle. He'd been the only thing that had protected her in such a defiant way. She missed him so much right now. And then realized she'd never found her brother either. She was hopeless.

It was roughly midday when Chalandra was in the homestretch of her journey. The sun swung high above her head, turning everything a sharp hue of bright oranges and burnt yellows. The night before had been shaded in such deep blues and purples that the contrast suddenly seemed very fleeting. When placed against the rushing movement of the fall's water, the dry, stifling land that laid before her seemed even more desolate and unwelcoming than the few weeks that stretched behind her. What had brought her here? "Never heard of him. Good luck with your search, though." As soon as her mind reverberated the question, the white male's words came tumbling back to her. He hadn't the slightest clue who she was looking for. Great. Now he probably thinks I'm spoken for. Or I'm hunting down another male to cover tonight's slot. Grumbling inwardly, Chalandra padded slowly along, narrowing her eyes under the glare from above as she tried to distinguish anything around her. She'd heard rumors a while back that a pack lived here, started only recently by a new dominor. It was a long shot, but her intentions were clear in her mind: find Nirco. Even if he didn't want her when they did reunite, even if he was just as hollow and uptight as before, she couldn't think of anything else to do with herself. The days had grown long in his absence and the loneliness from her trekking was beginning to bite at her heels. Being a loner had been easy at first--everything so new and inviting. All the sights and sounds of places she'd never seen before, much less imagined. And all the freedom in the world. She was more free than she'd ever been in life, and yet there was a certain hunger inside her ribs that refused to be sated. If nothing else but for her own sanity, Chalandra forced herself further into the desert terrain. As the ground below her paws became unmistakably grainy, the silver she-wolf began to scent something different on the air. She padded hesitantly forward, leaning down to smell her surroundings. Whatever it was was a few days old. There wasn't much to go by, but from what she could tell, it seemed to be distinctly female. Either Nirco had found himself some company better than herself, or he wasn't here at all. Chalandra took a moment to sit rather uncomfortably on the semi-sand texture before barking a few cautious yips into the land before her. A howl seemed too demanding, but not giving any notice portrayed a sense of secrecy. The blue eyes surveyed the land carefully, waiting for the familiar figure to rise over the nearest hill and greet her. Then again, maybe no one lived here...