dirt wolf

cordkitty-ish  asked:

27. “You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into, do you?” for the dwc :)

Thank you @cordkitty-ish :). An old prompt for @dadrunkwriting

Iwyn Lavellan returns to her clan and sees her younger brother, Branwen, for the first time since Trespasser. 


“You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into, do you?” Branwen paces the dirt floor of temporary dwelling. “How can you…? How can it be…?” Her brother shakes his head, and pauses, leaning on the pillar in the middle of the room.

“It is not as if I planned it,” Iwyn bites back, frustration creeping into her voice.

“What are you going to do now?” Branwen’s hands comes up, waving wildly in front of him. “Are you going to tell Deshanna? Everyone else? Mom?”

“I have to.“ Iwyn doesn’t meet his eyes, idly touching what is left of her left arm. “I have no idea what… his…” she tries to breathe, but the air thick and she feels like it is made of sludge. “I have no idea what his plans are. How dangerous it is for everyone.” She wants to throw up. She hasn’t thought about, not really. She has been like a ghost, worrying about the inquisition, the many tasks of running it.

Here in the Dalish camp, with her brother, it hits her. The Dread Wolf. She knows she sees him in her dreams, and she knows she will find him. Here, the dirt floor, the wolf statues keeping watch, she thinks what it all really means. Her brother goes back to pacing

“They aren’t gods, you know? Just people. Mages,” she says.

It was the wrong thing to say. Branwen stops again, icy look on his face. “Do not say so. Do not come here, after years with the shems, and assume you can tell such things. And if the Creators do not exist, what will protect us then? You, the almighty Inquisitor?” Branwen sneers at her, eyes stormy. She can smell his magic, congealing in the air around him.

“Branwen. It is not like that.” She tries to be calm. “I just wanted everyone to be aware. Don’t trust anyone. Don’t believe calls for change or rebellion.” The words are stuck in her throat. Had she not believed him? Does she not still think he tries to walk the only path he can see forward?

“Did you not say you trusted him? Were you wrong?” Branwen spins and looks at her, chin forward, arms jerking up again.

She opens her mouth to speak, but she has nothing to say. She shakes her head. She doesn’t know, anymore. She feels dizzy, and she sits on a folding chair, drops her head between her legs.

“Iwyn. Sis…” He hasn’t called her that since he was a small boy. Branwen stops pacing and places a hand in her back, runs it down her spine. It is large and heavy. He has become a man while she has been gone.

“I don’t know, Branwen. I don’t know what think anymore. I have to stop him. I love him. I don’t know how.“ She doesn’t look up. She hasn’t said it our loud, like this, to any of her friends. Only shown her calm self. But here; here she can smell the wood burning. The sour note of the tanned halla hides. Taste the herbs from her dad’s liquor at the back of her throat. Nothing to command, no tasks to attend to. Nothing left that gives her a semblance of control.

Branwen crouches in front of her. He puts his hand on her shoulders and pulls her forward, into an awkward hug, until her knees hit the floor, and then she throws herself into his chest. She hasn’t cried, she hasn’t for so long, but her cheeks are wet, and her shoulders are shaking, and Branwen keeps holding her.

are you dead or are you sleeping
(’cause your blood drool attracts the flies)

1 hr 40 min: 26 songs for general undead purposes

molten light  chad vangaalen  |  vampire smile  kyla la grange  |  demon daughters  phantom planet  |  spine (mmix)  loch lomond  |  your lips are red  st vincent  |  control  halsey  |  monster  meg myers  |  fresh blood  eels  |  eat raw meat = blood drool  editors  |  i can’t control myself  the horrors  |  barton hollow  the civil wars  |  satin in a coffin  modest mouse  |  a handsome stranger called death  foe  |  devil town  bright eyes  |  they are night zombies  sufjan stevens  |  passage  vienna teng  |  howl  florence + the machine  |  damn these vampires  the mountain goats  |  black dirt  sea wolf  |  let’s kill tonight  panic! at the disco  |  blood makes noise  suzanne vega  |  zombie  natalia kills  |  save our city  ludo  |  bloodletting (the vampire song)  concrete blonde  |  lovely creature  nick cave & the bad seeds  |  bad moon rising  mourning ritual

cover art by @isozyme who loves me & tolerates ghosts 

the birds are mocking me, a mix for the girl whose smile might mean anything ;

01. part 1 — duke ellington ; 02. chick habit  april march ; 03. caravan — duke ellington ; 04. pretty girls  neko case ; 05. bones  ms mr ; 06 the silence  bastille ; 07. you’re a wolf — sea wolf ; 08. broken crown  mumford & sons ; 09. laura palmer  bastille ; 10. raise up your weary hands  the builders and the butchers ; 11. black dirt  sea wolf ; 12. what a wonderful world  angel’s music box



(i’ll never be your) chosen one //
21 songs for fear, for love, for power, for wearing a mask so long you almost forget who you are beneath it. for the seduction of the dark side. for a slave never truly freed, forged into a weapon for a war he never chose to fight. for all of his mistakes, and all of his triumphs, all the things he loved, and all the things he lost. for anakin skywalker, who was born to find balance, and for darth vader, the monster who wears his skin. love can save you, in the end.
(a spiritual companion to my ben organa/kylo ren mix.)

1. hero - family of the year // 2. under the milky way - metric // 3. across the stars - john williams // 4. cosmic love - florence + the machine // 5. some nights - fun. // 6. weight of living, pt. 1 - bastille // 7. what do you go home to? - explosions in the sky // 8. oh death - noah gundersen // 9. the crow - dessa // 10. lesson no. 7 - clock opera // 11. broken crown - mumford & sons // 12. black dirt - sea wolf // 13. iscariot - walk the moon // 14. oblivion - patrick wolf // 15. prisoners - regina spektor // 16. body of years - mother mother // 17. when the war came - the decemberists // 18. a song for our fathers - explosions in the sky // 19. brothers on a hotel bed - death cab for cutie // 20. putting the dog to sleep - the antlers // 21. hero - regina spektor

listen // download 

cover art/tracklist graphics by the magnificent and magnanimous elissa @iossarian 

four elements presented in as many movements

act i: water
what the water gave me  florence + the machine  |  après moi  regina spektor  |  riverside  agnes obel  |  harbor  vienna teng  |   the water  feist  |  dead in the water  ellie goulding  |  the cold, the dark & the silence  sea wolf  |  the ocean  dar williams  |  the water  johnny flynn feat. laura marling  |  the diver  gravenhurst  |  lost at sea  eisley  |  lighthouse  the hush sound  |  bottom of the river  delta rae  |  everything floats  dessa feat. cecil otter

act ii: air
into the spin  dessa  |  float on  modest mouse  |  break the sky  the hush sound  |  take to the sky  tori amos  |  devils don’t fly  natalia kills  |  planes fly  angel haze  |  dernière danse  indila  |  falling  florence + the machine  |  landsailor  vienna teng  |  girl in the cage  barnaby bright  |  icarus  the staves  |  breathe  telepopmusik  |  breathe in  frou frou  |  two birds  regina spektor  |  keep breathing  ingrid michaelson

act iii: fire
dark doo wop  ms mr  |  burning pile  mother mother  |  matches to paper dolls  dessa  |  yellow flicker beat  lorde  |  your ex-lover is dead  stars  |  streets of fire  the new pornographers  |  grapevine fires  death cab for cutie  |  this fire  franz ferdinand  |  my songs know what you did in the dark  fall out boy  |  mirrors  natalia kills  |  burn  ellie goulding  |  fire n gold  bea miller  |  burning gold  christina perry  |  fire fire  flyleaf  |  fire meet gasoline  sia

act iv: earth
pressure  my brightest diamond  |  the sticks  mother mother  |  under the earth  yeah yeah yeahs  |  my boy builds coffins  florence + the machine  |  when i grow up  fever ray  |  follow you down to the red oak tree  james vincent mcmorrow  |  metal & dust  london grammar  |  in keeping secrets of silent earth: 3  coheed and cambria  |  black dirt  sea wolf  |  teeth in the grass  iron & wine  |  dune buggy  the presidents of the united states of america  |  tunnels  johnny flynn  |  down to earth  peter gabriel  |  new slang  the shins

Back-bent head against your chest, she’s shaking but you can’t tell if it’s because your hands are doing something right or completely wrong. She tastes of honeysuckle and soft innocence; she tastes of home.

In the afternoon light her skin looks golden and you don’t know how to hold her without leaving dirt stains behind. Your wolf hands surround her like holding prey; she falls limp into you. She is soft whimpers and spine curling into you. She is almost inaudible. You question if she’s even there at all.

How do you tell her that a wild thing never once learned to love? Do you tell her how you chased beautiful things down rabbit holes and only came out with scars? That your fox-sharp tongue never once tasted something so soft?

Skin brushes against the dampness of the forest floor. She turns to you with a wetness on her face like morning dew and tree-sap. She turns to you chap-lipped and pink-cheeked and before you know it she is gone in an afternoon daze.