Multiple Settings Darkwood Wolves {Rp}

♢ ARYA WOODS ♢

interactions; Wolfiee , open to other interactions in the bakery

By the time the sleepy glowing rays of the morning colored the town golden, the baker's bed had already been cold for a bit. There were no sounds or scents in the apartment itself, but the audible clues and faint scents of the inhabitant rose up between the floor boards, sounds of an oven lowly humming, dough being handled and a low tune being hummed, the faintest hint of a morning tea wafting around the room as hidden wisps.

Arya was always early up, often before the sun even showed its first rays, as she had bread to bake and cakes to make and tea to drink - oh, and some stubborn insomnia that kept her from sleeping too long, not that she'd tell anyone. She'd rather let them believe she was just very dedicated and passionate about her craft - which wasn't entirely untrue. Her movements were smooth and quick, clear with practiced ease as the third dough of the day was being formed and worked, the second portion in the oven and the first on the racks, cooling down before she'd bring them out into the store on display. The baker didn't only make breads and buns, but she was fond of making sweets as well, everything from cookies to doughnuts to more advanced layer cakes. She usually made whatever came to mind, and once that was all sold up, she'd begin on a new project or two. Therefore it was never certain what sweets the baker had in her windows, as it could change from day to day, but that was a part of the charm of the little bakery. Her selection of bread were always the same though, the same kinds of buns and loafs and breads, only occasionally there would pop up a new type or two for a limited amount of time. It gave her bakery a refreshing touch or tradition and stability, combined with touch of surprise and mystery over what the redhead had now experimented with regarding her cakes and desserts. In today's windows, other than the usual selection of breads, she had muffins, of three different sorts - chocolate, blueberry and vanilla chocolate chip - as well as some triple chocolate cookies.

Her humming continued to gently flow throughout the kitchen, her dough at hand done being formed into buns with a sprinkle of sesame seeds on top. Quickly the buns were switched out with the finished breads in the ovens, golden loafs with light carvings on top, as Arya continued to move between the kitchen and the front room of the bakery itself. The baskets of bread behind the counter and the trays in the windows were slowly filling up with scents and colors and textures and tastes, her personal favorites being the freshly made blueberry muffins, one of which she sat down with at the tables in the other end of the little bakery as the last portion of cakes and bread finished in the ovens. The blue-eyed baker felt tired, but looking at her stocked shelves and trays through black rimmed glasses, she felt satisfaction replace it, one of her hands bringing the muffin to her mouth to munch at occasionally as she gazed absentmindedly out the window at the quiet streets. The other hand underneath the table rubbed at the connection point between her real leg and the prosthetic - had it been some months back, she would've been more bothered by it, both in terms of pain and trouble physically when moving around the bakery and ovens and store room, but also mentally, a heavy weight on her mind. She'd had time to get used to it though, and found that if she focused on her work and business and customers, it didn't take up much of her time or space in her mind. She hadn't yet figured out how to handle it at night though, especially since that's when the phantom pains usually came to light when her hands had no more to do.

Shaking her thoughts away, the redheaded baker heaved a small sigh, refocusing on watching the rising sun outside as she enjoyed the last of her muffin, mentally noting herself to put more blueberries in next time. There was no reason to linger with thoughts of worry or fear. She was alive, had most of her body intact, had her bakery and customers, and she could eat cakes all day if she wanted without having to pay or be judged. Taste-testing, she could easily pass it off as. Which was actually the case... sometimes, that is. What was there not to like?

The baker's blue hues turned to the door as the bell dinged, the familiar form of the man causing a smile to spread across her soft lips. "Daniel!" Arya greeted the man warmly, a friend to her, standing and brushing off stray crumbs from her lap, mentally ensuring that her prosthetic leg was properly covered, which it always was but she couldn't help but worry. It didn't take the short woman long to make her way behind the counter, red hair a little ruffled and flour sprinkling her dark pants as always. "What can I help you with today? A large order of bread and cakes, or just a few cakes for yourself and the dame?" Her voice was tinged with humor as she teased him a bit, the man always either ordering huge amounts of food, or simply a few items - nothing in between. Not that she minded - his purchases were good for sales, and he himself was good for her mood, the baker enjoying interacting with the man, as well as his wife, whenever she was along.

"I've got some blueberry muffins, fresh from the oven, and-" The baker was interrupted by a very unfamiliar and haunting sound - a ear-piercing scream. Fear and surprise constricted the dark pupils in the blue hues of Arya, her mouth slightly open as her widened gaze briefly turned towards the street out the windows, even if she couldn't see the occurrence from there, and then back to Daniel, too stunned to do much more than await the man's reaction. She was human, not an ounce of werewolf blood in her nor any knowledge of them despite one of them having cost her half her left leg months prior, but something about Rexroad made her trust his reactions and decisions. Unknown to her, this was curtesy of his respectful and well-earned rank of alpha, but to her, he simply seemed to be a good person with a sound mind.

♢ MICHAEL RAGNVARD ♢

interactions; Wolfiee , open to others

Outside, the morning rays were tinting the surroundings a lovely shade of gold, lighting up the town and forest in an almost idyllic manner. Birds were singing, chirping and flying around, wind flowing gently to and from trees, weaving in between each other and carrying leaves and other smaller particles with them. It was almost like nature was slowly blossoming all together, waking up and stretching. It was truly beautiful, peaceful, amazing, and completely, and utterly-

Unnoticed.

Michael was slumped over, asleep in a chair with his back to the window, a half finished mug of coffee on the table next to him, steam lazily rising from the dark liquid and twisting, dancing softly in the quiet room. Quiet, other than Michael's deep breaths, that was. His breathing was a bit inhibited by his chin resting on his chest, straining his airways a bit. Not that the man himself noticed, arms crossed across his chest, legs outstretched, undoubtedly asleep. His dirty blonde hair was still a bit damp, his dark shirt still clinging to his body a bit from the moisture on his body. He'd been out before sunrise on a long run, mind too full with thoughts for him to sleep much longer. Upon returning, he'd taken a shower, grabbed a cup of coffee and sat down in the chair to enjoy the beverage in a pair of grey sweatpants and slowly wake up to a new day. Not that he ended up doing much waking up at all.

Michael stirred a bit, grumbling lowly, one arm lifting to rub drowsily at his nose, eyebrows scrunching a bit. You'd think he was waking up... but nope. The large man placed his arm back in a crossed position across his chest, heaving a low sigh before continuing his slumber.

The sunlight and beautiful morning might've not woken up the man, but the piercing scream echoing through town did the trick. Before the tones of fear were even done resonating, the beta was already on his feet, eyes wide and alert, entire body tensed up and ready to move. It didn't take long for him to exit the apartment, the steam from the forgotten coffee mug wafting from the rapid movements. Michael was running the second his bare feet hit the snowy ground outside, passing by others heading towards the sound as well, or simply staring in the direction of the scream in shock and concern. Upon passing the bakery, the man's green hues momentarily took note of the figure of Daniel in the shop, and the beta was a bit more settled at the notion that the alpha would probably follow soon after. The large man's feet skidded a bit on the icy snow as he stopped at the scene, eyes widening at the sight before him. It was... truly a gruesome way to die, without a doubt, and it took a few seconds for the usually composed man to turn his attention to the source of the scream.

"Valentina. Are you alright? Did you see anything? I mean, other than, this." Michael's deep voice was calm despite the chaotic scene before them, his gaze turning to the shocked woman. As he spoke her name, he placed his large hand gently on her shoulder, an act of support and comfort, although he hadn't spoken much with her other than polite greetings in passing. He didn't take much note of the fact that he was barefooted in the snow, hair damp and now icy, and only wore grey sweatpants, cold delicate wisps of winter air a stark contrast against his bare, broad and warm chest. He only had mind for the gruesome scene before them, and the safety of others.

♢ RAGNAR RAGNVARD ♢

interactions; @ unavailable at the moment, travelling to town

Golden rays snuck in through the slight spaces between the wood, gold light hitting dark grey hues, cloudy with sleep and glinting with annoyance. A sneer slowly inched across a furry maw, facial expression morphing to match the annoyance in his gaze, the canine grumbling lowly in his throat as he turned his head away from the intrusive sun. In a abandoned hunting cabin, no bigger than a large shed with large logs as walls and a half broken roof, was darkness. The walls and roof might've seen better days, but they did a good job keeping out the sun - but what little sun got through the cracks, shone light upon a large dark figure, curled up in the end of the cabin but despite that, still taking up almost the entirety of the floor room.

Anyone passing by wouldn't have spotted the large wolf at first glance, or maybe even second. Unusually large and almost human in his gaze, the large grey canine gave in to the persistent sun as the cabin lit up more and more. Another grumble rumbled in deep tones in his throat as he uncurled, a large skull lifting from the ground, powerful jaws with rows of white, sharp teeth parting, the ebony fangs reflecting a bit of the morning light. Closing his mouth with a slight snap, it didn't take long for the large wolf to get to his feet and step outside, shaking off dust and dirt from his thick grey fur, dark grey eyes alert and wide awake by now.

Ragnar had, unsurprisingly, chosen to head away from the town and live on the outskirts after he and Michael had arrived to the town. Ragnar had found an abandoned hunting cabin not far down the river from the town, a mere 10 minute run for a wolf and an hours walk for a human. Since then, he'd spent his nights there, or days, if he spent the nights wandering rather than sleep. He preferred to spend the night in his canine form, both for safety, and because of the cold, his thick fur keeping him warm and enhanced senses better able to pick up possible intruders than if he were in his human form. It wasn't unusual for Ragnar to spend more time in his canine form for other reasons though. Ever since the death of his mate some months ago, curtesy of his brother Michael, Ragnar's human side had withdrawn in pain and mourning, leaving more room for his wolf and instincts.

Shifting back into his human form took little time, and Ragnar subconsciously ran his hands through dark locks after he'd stretched, body a bit tense as usual when he'd spend a long time as a wolf. Wearing only a pair of black jeans, he crouched at the edge of the water. He pause for a moment, grey haze staring coldly at the reflection in the running water as thoughts ran to and from his mind in a hurry, some of forgiveness and reconnection, others of hurt and doubt. It wasn't new for the man to feel split by his thoughts and feelings, it was actually almost always a constant battle in his mind, trying to figure out what to do and think and how to proceed. But, as usual, the werewolf shook his head, snapped out of his thoughts and leaned down to scoop up some of the freezing water, bringing it to his face. As the cold water trickled from his strong jaw, hair dripping with droplets and stubble clinging to the water stubbornly, Ragnar wondered, as he did daily, if it was time to return to the pack, to return to Michael. But, as usual, whenever Ragnar got to the point where he thought of facing Michael again, he withdrew, angrily bringing a hand through the water to distort the image as if he could simply use brute force to rid himself of his conflicting thoughts. He stood up quickly, turning his back to the river with a clenched jaw. As much as he missed his brother, he was not yet ready to look his brother in the eyes and not remember that morning, in the motel room, bent over her body as Michael stood in the doorway with a look of guilt and -

Growling, Ragnar sat down on the tree stump outside the cabin almost aggressively, dragging a hand across his face and leaned his elbows against his knees, sighing deeply as he let his head fall into his hands, hair wet and messy. Why did it have to be so difficult? Why couldn't he just decide? Leave for once and all, or return and rebuild with Michael.

Plagued by feelings and thoughts and everything in between, Ragnar stared out over the surroundings with furrowed brows for a moment, before getting up, throwing on shoes, dark pants, a white shirt and a worn thick leather jacket, and heading off alongside the river in the direction of town, mind lost in thought but his senses instinctually still sharp and alert. He was unaware of the events occurring in town, but it wouldn't take long for him to reach town and get word of what was going on. He was aware of that something was going on in the forest though - spending so much time alone out there, made him more prone to notice the prey and even the predators around him act differently, and how much fewer animals there were. This was another reason that the large man was heading to town; to discuss the occurring events in the wild with Michael or Daniel, although Ragnar wasn't sure if he was actually going to, if he should or could be bothered, in the fear of being dragged into more pack stuff.