Musesofawolf - Muses Of A Wolf

<art by @voidtouched-blue>

Hello, and welcome.

I'm Wolf, 25+ years old, with 3 years of RP experience, and a decade of writing experience. He/Him.

Currently expanding upon FFXIV RP, with multiple characters, but am open to more.

Multiship per character.

Multiversal, with a background based around FFXIV and some liberties taken.

18+, if it makes sense for the story. Just be open about what you are looking for.

Long responses, with attention to details.

Moderately active. Working from home most days, but dependent on time allowed with work.

Feel free to message if you are interested, or have questions about rules or characters.

Rules | Kaleh'a | Bryn | Thancred

FFXIV Writing Challenge 2024 Directory

Brynhorn Fiske was perturbed.

He didn't show it outwardly, unless you knew him well enough to note the slight strain in his frown, the crinkle around the edges of his eyes, and the rigidity of his spine atop his trusty chocobo. Not showing it didn't change the fact that he was feeling that way, shifting the rifle he carried unslung over his lap with a heavy sigh, grumbling out, "Lost him..."

The once proud Sergeant of an Eorzean military company was now babysitting. Babysitting who? An Au Ra who was more akin to a gecko than anything else, and who had somehow slipped his watchful eye again. He was going to have to have a talk with Eljth about the fighter, in particular about the sharp eyed sniper's belief that "Au Ra" was not a good enough explanation for what the petite but feisty fighter was. Not only was he short for his supposed race, Bryn had witnessed him knock over men three times his size with ease, something the sniper wanted to avoid happening to him at all costs.

As it was, he wasn't too far from the shadowy walls of Revenant's Toll in Mor Dhona, the home of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn where the older, and honorary Scion, chose to spend most of his days. Which he supposed was exactly why he had the unfortunate pleasure of wrangling Eljth's pet. He paused at that thought for a moment, thinking over how the Ashfoot Viera who handled the Au Ra did in a way treat him like a pet, but to Bryn, thinking of the troublemaker that way felt wrong. No matter how annoying he was.

He smacked at his neck, some biting bug taking advantage of his turned down collar on his light grey coat, the slightly longer than hip length piece open at the front to reveal a classic, dark navy blue shirt, his light brown leather pants half covered by calf-high leather boots, stained dark brown with age and oil to give them a slight shine. Normally he would have preferred something a little less blue and grey, but Alphinaud has practically insisted he update his old soldier's uniform, and Tataru had gone ahead and actually made the clothes to do just that. It's not like he had much else to wear, a simple man in pleasure and dress.

His chocobo trilled lightly, the slow pace that Bryn had her in clearly annoying the creature built for speed, he legs giving an apologetic squeeze as he reached forward, petting its long neck as they passed under an old oak tree, his voice cool but understanding as consoled his mount. "I know. Easy girl, I'll let you run as soon as we find that blasted--"

It was the slight, ever so slight breeze he felt that tipped him off right before he was hit that let him brace, something pouncing onto him as he grunted with surprise. His chocobo, considerably spooked as it felt something effectively leap onto it, reared up and bucked, trilling shrilly as it flapped its wings and unseated its rider, and the thing now clinging to Bryn. With a yell, the soldier managed to keep a hand on his gun as he fell, the rifle clutched by the barrel in his left hand, and immediately, as soon as he hit the ground on his side, twisting midair to avoid his back, his right hand shot out and grabbed the first thing it touched.

It was long, scaly, and moving, like a tail, and for a moment, Bryn felt panic rise in his chest. It felt like a dragon's tail, and if a dragon was atop him, in Mor Dhona no less, he was a dead man. He had to get his rifle around, get it up, get it ready! Until all his fear bled away as he took in the creature on his chest and recognized him, a rush of relieved air rushing from his lungs as he turned his silver gaze on his quarry, his crew cut black hair dusted with dirt as he frowned up at Whillow Corion, the very person he had been looking for, his voice heavy with annoyance.

"Where in seven hells have you been, and why are you on top of me?" He hadn't let go of the tail of his prey turned predator, and he wasn't sure he should, just in case he decided to try and run again. A leash, of sorts. ...He's not a pet, damnit!

Piercing eyes stared through the foliage of the dense greenery that covered him. The bark beneath his claws was soft as paper as his talons tensed and relaxed in preparation. With such dark coloration the dragon’s petite body blended against that oaken wood and dappled shadows, the blueish leaves within the thickened trunk teasing against his senses as the wind ghosted over quiet nerves.

One wouldn’t be remiss to think the gecko was little more than a gnarled burl laying out along the branch as he did.

But this was no idle creature, no this was a predator, with silvered-blues darting across the broad walkway beneath him, searching, waiting, hunting for the prey to come ever closer.

His broad tail slithered around the limb as his prehensile toes digging into the groves far better than any single hand could do, the animistic talons keeping grip as he pushed himself up just enough to rest his chin atop the back of his palms.

Boredom was beginning to threaten him, it made his teeth clack with the need to cause problems.

Thankfully (At least to him), the answer to his dilemma soon came around the corner, his slitted pupils rounding in playful excitement at seeing the target nearing his perch; a shiver wiggling the tip of his tail as an unsounded rattle of the waiting snake, his tight grip loosening as his haunches wiggled too and fro before-

POUNCE

13th-dragon-prince--[Prior]

[...]It was not a rare thing to see him do, most often towards the Ashfoot who would lean down to let him nudge her in greeting; Gil’s were actual contests of headbutts that only Alisaie seemed to agree too. Here, it was soft, as if testing - an ask of permission if anything. Though, as he waited on the ground, the wily lizard clicked air against his teeth twice in a very similar way to how Brynhorn had done to get his mount moving.

︻デ═一・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The snake like wiggles of Whill's tail after they stopped had Bryn eyeing it like it might try to devour him with some hidden mouth, before his attention was drawn back to the owner of said tail, the purr of the little dragon in response to his perception comment only confirming that Bryn was right about it. He found his hand taken, and Bryn let it be held, the two sitting there for a moment as he just...listened. His eyes closed, feeling his heartbeat, feeling the way his body was pressed to Whillow's, and letting his thoughts wander. For a moment, it wandered to places he rarely let it, memories of snow, of blood, of danger quickening the sharp beat of his heart, and then calmer thoughts slowing it. He had no way of knowing that Whill could feel that so acutely, the way he reacted to memories, so he didn't try to hide it, opening his eyes to see the petite gecko staring up at him.

The slow rub of claws over his knuckles was kind, almost soothing, as silver met silver, wholly not expecting those words that left him more confused than calmed. "Poe...nah?" He butchered it, he was sure, his eyebrow lifting as he released the reigns fully and eyed his charge with curiosity. It hasn't sounded like common, that word, and he couldn't place the language in any he knew. His thoughts were interrupted by movement, his head tilting down--

Close. Right there close. Whillow had turned, rotating in the seat to face him, and his hands were on his chest, eyes peering up at him, and his taloned feet were at his sides. It was a position that gave a sense of closeness he hadn't expected to receive, to be in, to find himself staring into serious eyes. It was a long, serious moment, one where Bryn hardly darrd to breath during, his face softening with each moment before Whillow pulled himself up, using Bryn's shoulders as the soldier stayed strong in his sitting position.

One moment, he had scaled lizard in his lap. The next, he had a full fledged gecko standing over him, feet braced on his thighs, hands on his shoulders, and looking down at him. That was incredibly amusing for both him and the shorter male, reaching up and bracing the little dragon at his hips, keeping him upright and balanced on his legs as he cocked an eyebrow at him, wondering what he was planning up there, or if maybe he just wanted to feel taller for a moment. Instead, he was given more riddles, his name used to describe himself in the most circular of ways. He was trying to puzzle that one out when the shift gave him warning, and then-

The soft headbutt, or really hornbutt, left the Sergeant stunned and staring ahead at nothing, the wily half-dragon gone and already on the ground, the chittering laugh the only thing left behind as Bryn sunk into a memory.

A memory of someone reaching up, taking his face, when he was at his most dangerous, and resting her head to his.

Calming him.

Putting her own life in his hands.

Featherflame studiously ignored the clicks Whillow made, her loyalty lying with a non-clawed Hyur, but even she could read the sudden energy that buzzed around her owner. He was sliding out of the saddle, right after Whill as he tracked the gecko with a firm, demanding gaze. He strode forward, Featherflame chirping in concern, but he was in front of Whillow in a moment, his hand reaching up, slipping around behind his head, just above the nape of his neck and--

He pulled the gecko to him, leaning down, head tilted, pressing his forehead to those horns, holding Whillow there as his silver eyes gleamed in greeting, in a way he knew the instinctual side of the half dragon would get. Their breath mingled, his eyes held his, and he let the friendly gecko see that wild nature just below the surface. It wasn't quite the same as the headbutt, but it had the same intent. Hello, I am Bryn. I see you, and you see me. It was an offer, and an acceptance of the one offered to him, and after a long moment, his fingers untangled from the locks of hair on the back of Whill's head, Bryn rising back to his full height, and peering down at the short fighter as he breathed out in a coarse whisper, "Let's go."

He turned, un-slinging his rifle from the saddle bag, the strap going over his head and a finger pressing to where a hammer would fall, aether collecting and priming the rifle as he didn't wait for Whill, moving with sure footing towards the bridge leading to that spire, and to the resting place of old and powerful dragons. If he had questions, he could ask, and Bryn would answer.

13th-dragon-prince -- [Prior]

With hands on his hips, the muscle of his tail swished along the ground; never coming in contact with it directly, the sensitive nature of those telling nerves keeping watch and level before any touch could happen.

“Bryn has yet to burn the wick.” His words made little sense in a natural context, but when one held the heat of aetherical hearts, everything could be made a candle. “Let us go. Up up!”

︻デ═一・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Claws, at his back, the prehensile feet of Whill catching fabric as the Au Ra steadied himself, steadied himself against Bryn. He hadn't thought through the position he was suddenly in, the petite male clinging to him, hands on his collar, and close. The closeness wasn't new, but the position was, the tail around his wrist, the clacking laugh and the way he purred out those words. An honor for him. What honor, he could only guess, the soldier barely had time to think on it before wide eyes told him he had caught his interest, the wrapped closeness was relinquished, and Whillow showed off flexibility Bryn could never achieve.

It was that flexibility that had him staring, unable to take his eyes off him as the petite gecko stretched back and over, his hands hitting the dirt as his lower half was still pressed against Bryn. His breath hitched, for a moment, and then was gone, the sight of Whill so perfectly standing into a headstand without hesitation or strain something to behold. Muscles may have flexed, claws may have dug, but not a single shake in arms or body was evident, and the twitching of his tail...tiny little movements, balancing the frame like it was nothing as Bryn let out a slow breath. Dark hair hid Whillow's gaze, but not Bryn's, his eyes watching until the onyx scaled feet were back on the ground, and he found himself staring at the crouched half-dragon. His eyes crinkled slightly, peering into those expanded pupils as he saw the telltale signs of interest, and only confirmed with words.

For a moment, Bryn wondered if the Au Ra felt shame. He wondered if he ever got flustered, ever thought about what he was doing, or ever thought about his actions and teased those around him on purpose. It could be all instinct, just giving into little whims, but either way, he seemed to enjoy and know how to poke Bryn's buttons.

Before the carnivore--if stories were to be believed--decided to turn his chocobo into a meal, he listened to Whill and got up, bearing down on his rifle, using it as a brace to lift himself, toned muscles rippling under his coat as he rose, the tall, well built figure finally in full view, dwarfing Whillow by over a foot as he chuckled at his enthusiasm, whistling once for his chocobo. The red feathered bird let out an answering fweeee, running over and stopping before its owner, waiting patiently as the soldier slung his rifle onto a saddlebag, only one weighing down his mount on the right hand side. For a moment, he considered letting Whillow pull himself onto the beast, then thought better of it, recognizing the generally skittish creature may not like a clawed and toothed chicken eater on its back without any sort of buffer.

Throwing himself up onto the saddle, he swung a leg over, situated himself, and looked down at the shorter horned man, eyeing him a moment much like his chocobo was, before offering a hand and saying, "Use me to climb on, I can handle a claw or two, but Featherflame won't take kindly to it."

Featherflame let out a shrill noise in agreement, a clawed foot pawing the ground, before clacking its beak and holding its head high in pride.

"Just my luck!"

Kaleh'a was in a remarkably good mood. It was not every day he was specifically requested to participate in a hunt, and even rarer it was a solo hunt. It put a certain pop in his step as he tracked his target, a blue-black alpha Ziz, the large reptile like birds known for their aggressive tendencies, and this one had caught the attention of the Twin Adders after terrorizing a group of rookies on a training mission. One hasty retreat later, a request for help, and now Kaleh'a was off to find a angry Ziz! The thought of the hunt had his tail practically wagging with excitement! It didn't matter that the bird would likely stand a foot taller than him, at least, nor did it matter that he was still in year old armor. All he needed was one placed shot, and his hunt would be over! The hardest part was finding it.

True to his Miqo'te heritage, he had learned to track and stalk at a young age, the knowledge rolling over well to his preferred profession as a hunter, his trusty Gridanian Short bow carried with him almost everywhere. While he would happily complain about his older leather armor that liked to creak around the arms, the truth was most of it was new. Or, newer. The simple hardened leather jerkin he wore covered his chest and back, string tied the sides to keep the two separate and well fitting pieces together, two half sleeves looping over his shoulders to keep it from sliding down around his waist. Underneath was where the true comfort lay, a silken dark green shirt, purposefully chosen to blend in with the foliage of the Black Shroud, and it didn't hurt that it brought out his sparkling blue eyes. His pants he had traded recently for a pair of reinforced linen pants, the knees and buttocks sporting leather sewn over them for kneeling or sitting shots, depending on where he had decided to stake out his prey. Adorning his feet, wrapped in soft linen in lieu of socks, a pair of stuff leather boots trudged along, the beast that had made them one he had felled. The cobbler was more than happy to provide the sound dampened soles for the hunter, but even the custom made boots didn't compare to his pride and joy, slapping softly against his back.

His quiver. The hard, wooden, poplar casing was well oiled and darkened from age and care, a dozen and a half fir wood arrows sticking out of it, their feather flights standing strong against the wind that blew through them. Peaking out and over the open top, soft grey fur waved in the breeze, used to dampen the sound and avoid the scrape of an arrow head giving away his position, or arrows slapping against the wooden siding if he was moving quickly. It was the only piece of original gear he still had from home, a memory and a faithful ally. Even if what it carried changed, he didn't have any plans to get rid of it soon, at least as long as he could help it. Some may have considered him odd for that attachment, since most archers coveted their bow, but to Kaleh'a, the memories of home made it priceless.

The archer paused for a moment, humming to himself as he reached into his pant's pocket, pulling out a neatly folded map of the Black Shroud, checking it against a large tree he was standing next to, marking his location, and turning slightly east. The Twin Adders had helpfully marked where they had last seen the large alpha, and Kaleh'a figured checking there was the best place to start. One terrified account of the incident had even marked a nearby hollowed out log that might be useful to stalk his prey from. Heading off again, his steps more sure now that he knew his direction confidently, he walked in silence towards his goal. It was still a solid thirty minutes to the marked location, but he didn't mind it. It wasn't uneventful at the very least, the archer ducking behind trees, swinging up into them at times to avoid the more hostile denizens of the forest, a living mushroom going so far as to shoot a cloud of spores at him as the Miqo'te leapt over it, the young man chuckling as he landed clear of the cloud and continued on his way. He was plenty fast to avoid anything chasing him, and before he knew it, he was close to his goal.

In stride, her unslung his bow from his back, his humming dropping away as he silently observed his surroundings, taking more care to watch where he put a foot, making as little noise as possible as he moved as quickly as sound allowed towards his goal. Ziz tended to travel in packs, and with an alpha around, that meant one was likely close behind it at all times. The archer reached up, pushing back his archer's cap slightly, the pointed green cap holding back his white tipped hair just out of his eyes as the crystalline orbs of blue sought around for any hint of movement, his ears wiggling and swiveling as he listened carefully, cautious to the max as he entered the territory of the raptor birds.

Which all went out the window as he heard the challenging screech of a Ziz alpha.

Auto pilot kicked in, reaching back and drawing two arrows, one held by his left hand against the curve of his bow, away from the guide and sight line for his shot, but ready for a quick flip into knocked position after he fired the first arrow, now knocked and string tensioned, ready to fire as he moved low and fast. He noticed the log hollowed out just as the Twin Adder recruit had described, and Kaleh'a wasn't sure if he should count himself lucky or unlucky he had found his target so close to its original sighting. He guessed it would depend on what he found the angry bird challenging. A slight ruffle of feathers as he approached the log had his head snapping to the left, his eyes widening as he saw the Ziz alpha--

And a blue haired Miqo'te standing in front of it, already in a defensive stance.

He didn't think, only acted, leaping up onto the log behind her as he drew his bow to full draw, the well oiled wood creaking slightly under the strain as he sighted the bird brain right there, at it's brain, the bobbing and weaving head pausing for a moment, looking up at archer in surprise, mouth opening to screech in challenge.

It got a meal, but not one of flesh and blood. Instead, it found a wooden arrow shaft impaling its open beaked mouth, passing straight through as the heavy iron tip severed its spinal column, and its two legs went limp as wet noodles, dropping the beast forward and slamming it's lifeless head into the ground with a heavy thud. Which, accidentally, resulted in a spray of ichor and dirt coating the blue Miqo'te's feet, a last little gift from the bird raptor to its would be prey as Kaleh'a knocked his second arrow.

It's brood, shocked by the sudden death of their alpha, screeched in panic, turning, running, slamming into each other as they ran from the sudden threat, their protector gone as Kaleh'a slowly lowered his bow, un-knocking his arrow as he let out a slow breath, turning his gaze to the smaller, female Miqo'te.

"You alright?" he asked, hopping down from the log and approaching her, eying the Ziz to make sure it was dead, before turning fully to her, taking in the, he now realized, interesting female. Her hair was a vibrant blue, with no sign of dye in it, which was even odder than his moon-kissed tips. Her tunic, simple trousers, and wrapped feet marked her as a forager, complete with a satchel, lantern, and simple knife on her belt, small superficial cuts dotting her arms, some still freshly bleeding as he realized she had clearly picked a number of herbs or flowers already. He glanced down at her wrapped legs, and had to do a double take, his eyes widening, and then darting away. It wasn't because of the now red stained wraps, it was the curve of them. They weren't...normal. Or, perhaps normal was the wrong word, they weren't familiar. They curved, at the heel, with what looked like the front of her foot only touching the ground, the heel lifted up like an animal's, like...what was the word? Digitrade? But they weren't as pronounced as a wolf or cat. He couldn't remember, but something about her wasn't all Miqo'te, that much he was sure of.

Realizing he had probably stared too much, he glanced up to her eyes, giving her a wan smile, a hand lifting to scratch at the back of his head in embarrassment as he murmured, "Sorry about your wraps."

Starter for @musesofawolf - Kaleh'a

It was a generous gift for E-Sumi-Yan to provide her with a private place to continue her studies. Having excelled in Conjury at a quick pace, her skill had impressed the Padjal. While she was not granted the mark of the Elemental's chosen, he often sang their praises to her. It was like she had become a different person entirely. It felt strange to be offered such kindness by others. Cyra even had a hard time thanking him for his incredible kindness in providing her with his old cabin. The hut was simply vacant and had been for years, and he felt it was time to pass it on to someone who would put it to good use. With a whole new life ahead of her, she absolutely would.

Using the survival knowledge gained from her mentor, and some additional lessons learned from the Botanist's Guild in Gridania, she had set out into the Black Shroud on a mission: to fill her newly acquired home with drying herbs for use in both her studies, and her work as a healer. With the bounty of the forest at her doorstep, it would be rather easy to gather what she needed. She had the freedom that privacy granted, and could allow herself the opportunity to let the mask fall.

Cyra had neatly folded her robes reserved for her station and left them carefully stacked on the stand near her bed. Her trip today called for practicality, and wearing her healer's garb would only make it harder for her to maneuver into the smaller spaces for specific herbs. Donning a pair of weathered wraps to protect her feet, fitted leather trousers, and a layered tunic cinched with her belt made her ready for her foray into the wilderness. On her thick belt, she kept a sheathed dagger, a lantern, and a few pouches handy for any quick nicks or injury she might sustain from brambles or wild animals. Finally adding her satchel to her ensemble, and grabbing her staff for good measure, the young healer took a deep breath and finally set out into the forest.

In the first few hours of her small adventure, she was able to harvest some seeds to start a garden, and some thick bundles to hang from the ceiling. The unfortunate side of being so new to harvesting her own herbs was the lack of knowledge in how to avoid the brambles on some of the more difficult plants. She was grateful that she had the foresight to bring her own bandages, and reminded herself to find a leatherworker in the city to craft her some protective leather sleeves for her next adventure. Thankfully the nicks were superficial, but that didn't mean they bled any less. Sleeves rolled up, bandages out in full display, she hadn't even considered what kind of creatures the smell of it would attract.

Cyra had herself half-buried in a log when she heard it approach. This particular part of the Shroud had quite an aggressive pack of raptors. What she failed to remember was that this was also the territory of the Ziz. Large, bright-colored reptile-like birds that towered over most things in the Twelveswood. The Miqo'te had never hunted animals before, and hadn't anticipated being crept up on by a small pack that caught her uncomfortably close to their nesting grounds. But the largest of them all was a blue-back. It was the alpha of the group, and they had a tendency to encroach on the settlements in the area as they continued to expand their territory. This one in particular had become quite the problem for the Wood Wailers, and a bounty had been set up for any brave enough to eliminate it.

Finally reaching her quarry inside the rotting log, she stuffed the peculiar mushroom into her satchel and began the backwards crawl out. Right as she had seated herself in the dirt, she heard the brush rumble behind her. Her ears rotated quickly, picking up each step of the massive creature. The pace of her heart quickened. Snatching up her staff, she hopped to her feet.

"Just my luck." She sighed as the beast came into view. It's massive, tooth-lined beak clacking angrily as it approached. It's head bobbed as the blue-back sized her up. As small as he was, she wouldn't provide much of a meal, but easy prey was easy prey. She sniffed, and with a quick motion stuck her staff into the dirt. The creature's feathers bristled as it let out a short shriek, an admission of challenge.

"I haven't had enough exercise lately, this could be fun." She tilted her head to each side, and assumed a defensive stance, hand on the pommel of her dagger. Her tail flicked back and forth, ready and waiting for the beast to make its first strike.

The excitement of starting up a story is infectious. I'm looking for more to read, and more to start!