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Neutral
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Orion | M | Lead Dog | Mentions: The Team (ind), Deuce (ind) - Snow. That was all there was around the shape of frost-covered fur. It was all Orion could see at the moment, it was eerily quiet around the male as well. Maybe it had been the snow drowning out all of the usual crows' callings, or maybe it was the shock that had come with the death of his team's musher that had muffled any hearing that the dog usually experienced. The blizzarding snow had picked up in the time that Orion had taken, towering over the ledge of the deep cliff edge. The stinging of a rather nasty rub burn- that Orion had taken on while struggling against the harness threatening to pull him down the ravine along with the sled, not moments ago- had slowly started to numb because of the cold. He couldn't feel his paws and had to squint to keep the raging snow from his eyes. His mind was racing, though his expression let off a void of emotion as he slowly and stiffly took a few steps back from the ledge. He couldn't see the bottom of the ravine, but it was safe to say that the sled, the man, and the dogs who couldn't jump off in time hadn't made the fall. Orion's eye twitched slightly against the harsh winds of the Alaskan wilderness that he soon took in while slowly looking around. Perfect. Wonderful. Just what he needed. The canine's lips curled back in frustration as he seemed to fully take in his situation. He didn't have time to grieve- to mourn the losses of the fallen. No. He needed to find the individuals that had made it- if any- and he needed to do it quickly. With the years of experience Orion had as a sled dog in environments like this, he knew the dangers that came along with roaming aimlessly through the snow. Sinkholes of snow, cliffs like the one not feet away from him, bears and other creatures that would easily take a canine as a snack, and of course- the bitter cold. Orion's nose had lifted to the air, however, he soon regretted doing so when all he inhaled was the nonexistent scent of snowfall. He couldn't shout for anyone... no, that would alert predators to his presence. Instead, Orion settled on the tedious exploration of wandering. The team couldn't be too separated, could they? Sure enough, not long after starting his search, his eyes were taken upon familiar pawprints. A wave of relief flooded over the dog as his head shot up, his ears swiveling forward as his eyes strained against the snow. His brother was alive. And now, he just needed to find him... Along with the rest of the team. |
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Darkseeker
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Deuce | M | Team Dog | Mentions: Orion (d), Spritzy (d), Others (ind) It felt like it had happened in the blink of an eye. One moment, Deuce was in his element—gliding beside his, snow flurrying around their legs in cheerful spirals, the dog’s breathy yips echoing his own sense of playful readiness. The air was sharp, the cold biting in just the right way. Visibility was low, but Deuce *liked* that. It made the world quieter, the stakes higher. You had to rely on instinct, not sight. That was his game. But the better part of the storm had come on like a sucker punch. Fast, heavy and blinding. One moment they were running, the next the sky was coming down around them. He hadn’t even had time to track the panic—just the quick snap of lines tugging, the sudden give in his harness, Klondike’s bark cutting off mid-note. And he’d almost called out. Almost yelled his brother’s name like he was a pup again, like Orion would just be there, strong and unshaken, to make everything okay. But he didn’t. That was weakness. That was a pup's move. And Deuce didn’t need rescuing. …Not that the wind seemed to care. It clawed at his eyes, tearing through his coat like claws. His paws sank deep into the snow as he dropped low, digging in, bracing himself against the storm’s feral roar. He could feel the fear clawing up his spine, icy and irrational, but he slammed it down. Instead, he waited. Waited for the chaos to pass, teeth gritted, muscles coiled like a bowstring. When it finally eased, the silence that followed wasn’t peace—it was pressure. The kind that settles on your chest when you realize the world isn’t how you left it. No musher. No team. No bearings. Just cold. And absence. Deuce straightened slowly, his body trembling from more than cold. He *hated* how his thoughts went soft and sentimental, flashing to warm kennels, to his mother’s scent, to soft bodies of his littermates nestled against him. It made his stomach twist. He growled low under his breath, shook himself free of the snow clinging to his coat, and shoved the longing down. There was work to do. Survivors to find, if there were any. It wasn’t long before movement caught his eye through the thinning veil of white. A silhouette. Tall, stiff in posture, unmistakable. Orion. Relief hit him like a surge of heat in the cold. He didn’t think, didn’t plan. His trot snapped into a run, limbs cutting through the snow with ease. In a heartbeat, he launched himself forward and tackled his brother straight into the drifts, burying them both in a soft crash of powder. “Hi,” he breathed, his muzzle pressed firmly into Orion’s thick ruff. The tightness in his chest finally, *finally* loosened. For a few heartbeats, he didn’t move—just let the grounding presence of his brother sink in, like the world had stopped spinning out of control. Then, with a half-smirk curling into his voice, he added:
“Guess who.” Because he had to say something. Had to let the moment twist into something lighter. He didn’t do open vulnerability. Not even now. Especially not now. But the truth was simple. Even if everything else had fallen apart, he wasn’t alone. And that meant he could breathe again. Finally, he pulled back, shaking his coat out again. He could hear another animal in the muffled snowy wonderland, and he could tell the gait immediately. "Spritz?" He called, uncaring of the possible risks the sound could be the catalyst for. |
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Darkseeker
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" Sometimes life is altered
Break from the ropes, your hands are tied. "
- And All Things Will End
࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ
Mentions: Nikolai (D.), Rusalka & Others (Ind.)
Vireya
The wind howls louder now, pressing snow sideways across the ridge like
sharp-edged blades. Visibility is all but gone. Vireya lowers her head
slightly, eyes narrowed, scanning the storm for movement. Ghosts.
Illusions. Maybe teammates. Hopefully teammates.
She doesn’t know yet.
Then, movement.
Nikolai. She knows him by the set of his shoulders, even half-shrouded
in snow. She watches him blink. Again. Again. Yet he remains unmoved.
She doesn’t call his name. Doesn’t bark or shout a command. That’s not her
way. The cliff doesn’t care about names, and Vireya won’t waste breath to
potentially startle a dog who might not even be listening. She recognizes
the state he’s in. She’d been in it too; only moments before. He hadn’t
landed far from the edge.
But then, she catches him moving back.
Slower than he should. Steadier than she expected. Inch by inch, he backs
away from the abyss.
Good. He’s not dead. Not yet.
Vireya shifts her weight and angles her body toward him, then begins her
march into the wind. It whips her blackened fur around her eyes, nearly
blinding her, but she lowers her head and pushes forward, breaking the
distance between them step by step. The dogs should regroup. It’s the
smartest move now; gather, count, survive. Aside from Nikolai, the
blizzard makes it hard to see anyone at all.
But there’s another on her mind.
Rusalka.
The thought claws at her throat, demanding attention. She swallows it back.
Later. Right now, a teammate is in front of her. Alive. That’s all that
matters.
When she reaches him, she says nothing at first. She doesn’t have to.
Her eyes, heavy with exhaustion and tension, say what her maw won’t;
You made it.
She doesn’t let it soften her. The moment lingers, then breaks.
Her gaze returns to the white void before them.
“Start counting,” she says at last, voice hoarse from cold.
“How many dogs can you see?” The wind shrieks again, louder this time. High pitched and cutting, as if
it were screaming. Vireya's ears flatten against her skull for a moment, but
she doesn't stop scanning. She blinks snow from her lashes, one golden
eye narrowing as she stares into the whiteout like it might blink back.
Shapes flicker at the edge of her vision. Branches? Maybe. Shadows. Or dogs.
She steps forward, paws crunching carefully through packed snow as she
edges past Nikolai, careful not to move too far and lose him in the white.
Her gaze briefly flicks toward him, registering any movement he might make.
When she confirmed he was alright to move, she lifted her muzzle higher
and squints through the blur. The storm has swallowed the horizon,
reduced the world to movement and wind and white. but there... faint.
A silhouette. A dog? A rock? She doesn't know. She takes another step.
"We need to find the others," she said, the fur around her neck
bristling, "Ideally, the leader. But I want to know who we still have." |
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Neutral
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Zira | F | Team Dog | Mentions: The Team (ind) ~ One moment she'd been running, watching the cues passed down the line from the lead dogs. Just as she caught what sounded like cracking she'd been yanked sideways, the air leaving her lungs as the harness dug into her harshly. Then that pull was suddenly gone with a snap, and she was left stumbling face-first into the snow. . She wasn't sure how much time had passed when she finally managed to lift her head from the snow, only to immediately regret that choice as the wind whipped flurries into her eyes. Blinking she squinted, trying to make out forms against the white-out conditions of this blizzard. As her eyes scanned around her Zira froze as she spotted the dark cliff just feet from where she'd landed, her body involuntarily shivered. Whether it was from the cold or from the knowledge she'd narrowly avoided falling down that very cliff, she couldn't be sure. What she could be sure of was that they'd lost at least 2 dogs when the sled went down..along with their musher. She frowned, that loss weighed heavy on her, for the first time she'd had a home, had a human that cared, and dogs that didn't pick on her. One of the wheel dogs that she was sure had fallen with the sled had welcomed her warmly as a mother would've. Zira pushed herself up carefully on shaky legs, her paws stung from having been dragged some distance across the snow and ice. . Moving slowly away from the edge until she felt safe enough to try scanning the surroundings for the rest of the team, attempting to scent them was neigh impossible with the wind and heavy snow. So she settled for slowly picking her way through the dense snow, managing to pick out a few shadowy figures in the endless white that came down in torrents. Zira barked out a distress, trying to get their attention, only for her voice to be drowned out by the howling of the wind. This blizzard had come in without much warning and had struck at probably one of the worst times. The team was scattered and without their musher, they would have to find a way to navigate to a checkpoint. Hopefully, this storm wasn't going to drag out too long, traveling in it like this would be suicide. Zira knew the best they could do was survive, and even that was starting to look slim with these weather conditions. She shook her head, now was not the time to get melodramatic. Spotting a darker silhouette she pushed against the wind, hoping above all else that was one of the team. |
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Neutral
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Blithe | F | Wheel Dog | Mentions: The Team (ind)
Before the weather changed and everything went wrong, it was just another ordinary race, with Blithe and the squad enjoying themselves. It began with the howling and groaning of the winds. Then, terrible, heavy snow started to fall, making it impossible to see more than a few inches ahead. Blithe struggled to concentrate due to the trail's sharp twists and turns, which were quite confusing. Another quick turn led to disaster. A trip and a fall sent the musher, Klondike, and Dakota tumbling into a deep ravine, leaving the onlookers in shock at the unexpected turn of events. They all realized they were alone, thrown from the sled after their harnesses broke. Separated, and absolutely, positively stunned. - Numb. That was all Blithe felt in the deep, cushioning snow where the throw had placed her. Numb to the cold, numb to emotions, numb to everything. Just the thought of Klondike and Dakota falling into the ravine made her feel... terrified. Struggling to rise to her feet, Blithe lost her footing on the icy, snow-covered ground, feeling a sharp twist in her ankle as the pain shot through her body. Despite the discomfort, she refrained from letting out any sound that might attract attention from the lurking predators around her. - As Blithe gingerly made her way through the thick blanket of snow, a question repeated itself in her mind with each snowflake that whispered down from the heavy clouds above: Where is everyone? Where is her pack? - The thought tugged at her heart as she navigated the terrain, her injured paw a reminder of the things she had faced. Though uncertain of their exact whereabouts, a deep sense of determination fueled her steps. Regardless of the distance, the cold, or the obstacles ahead, she held onto the unshakeable resolve that she would reunite with her companions, no matter the trials she must bear to make it happen. - With the wind pushing against her and the snow still steadily falling, it was hard to imagine whether her packmates survived or not. She knew that she had to. She knew she had to search for them. But the pain from her paw and the thoughts in her mind made her exhausted. She needed to find somewhere to rest. A spruce in the distance would make perfect cover. All she had to do was make it over there. |
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Neutral
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Nikolai - M - Team Dog - Mention(s): Vireya, (ind: whoever Vireya sees) ~ Nikolai was still too shocked to even form any sort of animosity towards Vireya. Instead, he nodded wordlessly. Honestly, at this point he was just glad to see at least one other dog alive, no matter who. Doubtless it'd probably change later, but for now he guessed this was where they were. "I... I don't know..." He hadn't been looking for he others until that point. He had been watching the sled tumble, with the little flip that it had done, upending everything... "... Other than you, I can't see anyone else," he finished resignedly. Well, he could count how many dogs he could see. Two. Himself and Vireya. To be fair, at least two was better than one, and Nikolai had another moment of short-lived levity. Vireya taking a step forward made Nikolai made him start slightly, and he hurried to follow her. Even only a step or two away, he had already almost lost sight of Vireya in the howling wind and snow. And for once, he completely agreed with the stark assessment that Vireya had laid out. "Agreed." At least, he tried to say that. It came out as "agg-" as the wind suddenly gusted slightly and he found himself swaying as his light build got the better of him and threatened to liteally blow him down. Instinctively shutting his eyes, he opened them seconds later to see Vireya already almost lost. Did the visibility have to be that bad? Apparently so. Barking, he hurried back towards Vireya's rapidly diminishing form. Really, one of the last things that he wanted to happen was to get separated from the dogs that he could see, because a team of two was better than a team of one any day. "Do you see something?" Nikolai looked curiously at Vireya - getting a faceful of wind while doing so - before remembering to squint and trrying to make out whatever Vireya saw. He couldn't. Honestly, that shouldn't have been a suprize. Casting his attention wider, the blizzard defeated his senses yet again. He just couldn't see anything other than white, white, white, white. And a bit more white, in case anyone was wondering. It sure was a winter wonderland where everything was white. Literally freaking everything. "Because if you can see something... I can't." Nikolai huffed with annoyance as he turned back to Vireya, wondering if there was something she saw that he most definitely couldn't in this whiteout. |
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Winter Month: 1 
Night 
Clear Moon: 
