what i've become ⋆ open

[Ridley]

During the night, when the stars found a home in both the sky and Ridley's eyes, the female thought of her father. Midas had always frowned upon her fascination with the night. He'd hear her voice whispering to her long gone mother or listen to her exchange news with Taru. In the dark, his daughter talked to the sky and he always believed it was some defect from letting her spend too much time with that crazy old bat, Taru. She believed that souls rested in the realm of the stars, illuminated by the galaxy's little lights.
"Who were you talking to last night?" he'd ask, even when he already knew the answer.
"No one," Ridley would lie like a rug, unable to look her remaining parent in the eye. Of course, it'd trigger Midas' temper. He'd launch into a rage, raving about how dead wolves were just that: dead. Their eyes did not become the stars, nor did they use them to watch the world they left behind. The sky was a bleak, cold place, empty with the hollow hopes of days lost. Midas knew it better than anyone.

But he was gone now. Murdered and shamed, Ridley's father had made his way to finally rest peacefully among the stars. Ridley just knew he wasn't doing very much resting, nor was he ever peaceful. "Avenge me! Your father, your name, your pack," he howled from the heavens. Ridley heard it so vividly sometimes. "I, who loved you enough to tell you what your true potential was, will not die in vain. Rise, my precious Ridley. You have your broken crown, now use it," his voice was even more prominent after she succeeded her father and taken control of Sapientia Saecolorum. He talked of soiled thrones, broken crowns, all of things that came with his murder. To die at the jaws of the rival pack was the greatest shame for Midas. He'd always said that those who died in confrontations were not worth the title of being part of Sapientia. Fallen members were not meant to be mourned, even if Ridley always went against him to do so. Losing lives and gaining more stars through violence, was always something to be sorrowful over, even if Midas was blind to it.

Even so, one mourns and continues forward. The same process would occur when the packs finally went to war. When the earth was bathed anew in sheets of canine blood and Ridley once again rose from the ashes of death, they would grieve and move on. If, to restore her throne to its previous glory, lives were lost, Sapientia would adapt and continue.

Ridley would pave the road with blood before she let her crown go unmended.

[Principe]

The tall, lithe shape moved quickly, each long leg bending and then extending forward with ease. The sandy-brown paws were set down quietly on the prairie grass. The animal's nose twitched as it inhaled the air, detecting the scent of fellow canines. Amber eyes reflected the light as they slowly swept across the territory placed before them. The creature's ears were perked, not only alert for sounds of danger or prey, but also as a reflection of the animal's temperament. Along with the ears, the head and tail were held high in the air, the head facing straight forward, only looking to the side if there was a chance of a predator lurking somewhere in the shadows. The tail was not straight up in the air, but fairly high, and waved slightly from side to side as the beast moved across the terrain.

Principe was his name. Principe Argenturi. The brute was a tall canid, towering above most, and with a lighter frame. His pelt was that of various shades, mostly cream colors, but a few stray white hairs, cinnamon patches, and the occasional black strand. His eyes were a deep amber, which got considerably darker the farther it extended from the pupil. And if one looked closely, they would notice small green flecks forming a ring around the pupil.

Suddenly the shape came to a halt. The long legs stiffened. The amber optics were focused on something in the distance, not moving from that spot as if they frozen. The lanky brute knew what lay ahead of him, something he had not had an encounter with for quite a long while, though it was one of his own species. He raised a paw into the air, and then set it down in front of him. The wolf repeated this movement with the other paws, and began to eventually quicken his pace until he was moving across the ground at a trot. The small shape became bigger and bigger as Principe got closer, and soon the other canine was now just yards in front of him.

Once again the male resumed his regal posture as he approached the creature. Principe slowed his paws down so that they were again going at a walk. He waved his high-held tail slowly as he came within feet now of the other wolf. "Hello" he greeted, looking her over. Her fur was mostly gray, with a few ebony streaks along her back. "Principe Argenturi" he added, lowering his head for quick moment to give his creamy chest fur a lick before raising it up high once more.

[Ridley]

Sensing the approaching male from yards away, Ridley wasn't surprised when the brute so directly approached her. She was always on alert, especially after her encounter with Eligius. The dominant male of Animos had probably become quite paranoid after their confrontation. He had most likely informed his followers of her "unstable" mindset and warned them to steer clear of the crazed wolf known as Ridley. She was slightly worried it would cause a bold few to confront her on her own land, possibly in some suicidal attempt to draw the first blood of the war. Even so, her current visitor held no scent of any pack, quieting her nerves and allowing the female peace as he introduced himself. The relaxed feeling didn't last long, however, as her eyes shifted to take in the sight of the newcomer.

"Hello," his head was held high. With his tail the same way, it might have given him some kind of regal posture if Ridley hadn't been so infuriated by it all. "Principe Argenturi," he stated, lowering his head only to deliver a swift lick to his cream colored coat. A loner, the thought registered as Ridley realized why he didn't know who she was, how vulgar. Even beneath those that belonged to Animos, wolves that ran alone had been something close to vermin in Midas' eyes. He'd passed the distaste down to Ridley in some ways. She respected their affection for solitude and their sheer determination to make it alone, but downright despised their complete lack of respect for the benefits of packlife and hated how they never knew when they were welcome or not. Right in front of her was a perfect example of a wolf that didn't know what he was getting into, nor did he understand where it was safe to tread with such... haughtiness. Sapientia Saecolorum was no place for his fantasized authority, especially not in front of Ridley.

The soot colored female cleared her throat as she moved to stand. As the wolf was definitely large for her gender, weighing in at almost 90 pounds, the girl was not at all intimidated by the brute before her. "Well, Principe," she began to laugh a little, shaking her head slightly. "It seems you've no idea who you're talking to and I understand that," her laughter died away as she stared intently at the male before her, "I really do." Ridley was burning beneath her composed voice. Such disrespect for the dominant, for the almighty that would soon write her destiny in the spilled blood of so many Animos, should have been punishable by death. The female's tail twitched suddenly, revealing the irritation building within her. His head and tail so high in the air, the way he had looked over her when he'd arrived, how he had given his name without being addressed... it all demanded Ridley's anger. Fur bristling and ears erect, the female drove her nose into his chest forcefully before knocking her shoulder into him. She pushed at him, snarling something fierce. "Show respect for the one who runs this land and the pack that thrives within it," she snarled as she allowed her chin to rest on top of the brute's shoulder. If he didn't react correctly, the dominant female was prepared to deal out punishment where it was due. "You are in the presence of a Sapientia," she continued to explain why the loner's fumble was one of such calamity, "Not just any Sapientia wolf, but the Sapientia wolf. I am the one known as Ridley."

[Principe]

Principe watched the femme intently as she cleared her throat before rising to her paws. She was not a small wolf; quite large indeed. He perked his ears, and lifted a paw and set it forward as Ridley spoke. The tan-furred canid grumbled as the ebony wolf chuckled quietly as she spoke.

Principe raised an eyebrow as the she-wolf's tail tip twitched, a sign that she was not exactly happy with how he had behaved. The male tensed slightly as her raven colored hairs on the lupa's neck began to bristle. Suddenly, the female dove at Principe, and he moved to dodge but was too slow. Ridley's muzzle met his chest forcefully, and then she turned and budged him, shoulder to shoulder. His ears picked up her words, ones demanding respect.

Just then he felt the canine's muzzle resting atop his shoulder. He drew his lips back, and listened as she began to speak more. "Sapientia?" he grunted. 'The Sapientia wolf? She must be the leader of...whatever the Sapientia is' he realized. Principe forced himself to relax a bit, and he lowered his ears and tail ever so slightly. "Alright then..." he muttered.

(OOC: Sorry it's so short! I was pressed on time >.<)