Wolf RPG

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It’s been a while since Thuringwethil and Eljay has returned and she still hasn’t seen any sign of Étoille’s return. She doesn’t realize he isn’t even going to be coming back to Drageda any time soon, either and her heart aches in his absence. Eske’s been too busy for her and things with Blixen have been rocky at best, even with their relationship on the mend. She hasn’t had the proper way to deal with it or anyone to turn to for advice so she sets her sights for the outside world this morning. She skips patrols with Blixen, again, and makes her way to the east. She skirts past the tangle, though, remembering how annoying it had been to try and go through. But she made a friend, anyway, and perhaps she’ll be somewhere in the area again.
 
She moves along the little mountainside until she comes across an even terrain. Most of the ground is coated in snow but when she looks back, her paw prints are dark with soot and ash below. Her brows knit together but she keeps going, exploring what the terrain has to offer. It is a little far to be much of use for Drageda but it never hurts and she needs the time to try and clear her head without the chance of running into one of the wolves she’s spent all this time worrying about.
Again he came down from the mountain— descending through terrain he was accustomed to, and seamlessly merging into the broad emptiness he found no pleasure in walking. Duskhall pressed forward regardless. He was eager to see where the snowed-over decimation found its end, but more than this he wanted to return to a comfortable elevation by the following day. Though when he spotted something moving on the horizon, he pursued it self-interestedly without a second thought for his own chosen time constraints.

The closer he sauntered to the figure, the more he slowed to account for the event he was approaching someone with a skittish nature. He didn't want to make it seem like he was going to chase her... Not really, anyway. He stopped his advance when he had come close enough to casually call out to her. "Hey, girl."
She sees the stranger before he speaks up but it isn’t by much. He’s set his sights on approaching, despite her wanting to avoid him, but she doesn’t move until he eventually comes to a stop some several yards away. A shiver runs down her spine. Somehow, she feels colder.
 
“What?” she calls back, her form stiff and planted on the ground. Avid licks at the back of her throat in his presence but she doesn’t back up or try to flee. She knows the way she came well enough but only one foot eases up to prepare for her run but she steels the rest of her and waits.


no kinkajuú, no bhediyon, what's a girl to do? oh, there's options, sure, and she's considering them duly, and oh, she hasn't spoken to dear brother weetzie in a bit, she's overdue, but since when has witchbaby faced her obligations head on? instead she makes her way across the map, exploring where she hasn't before, until a familiar-welcome scent catches her attention.

the angelette! sweet furi, oh, she does have to tell her she won't be settling on the coast after all, hm? the scarlet witch makes her way quickly, foot-falls light and dainty, her interest only piquing when she realises sweet angelette isn't alone after all. she comes upon them quick, curling around the nearly-yearling's side with a grin curling her lips. "been a while, ain't it?" wb croons, her gaze lifted onto the stranger, curiously. "an' whose this then?"
So sorry for the wait!

Duskhall was partly impressed that the girl did not run, as her rigid posture implied she so wanted, but he was plain surprised by the way she verbally responded -- just as tart and impolite as he. He advanced only a few more steps before falling still once more, hoping now that they didn't have to raise their voices while still keeping their sizeable partition. "Just wanting to know what this place is and what's on the other sides of it... if that'd be something you know," he answered with great leisure; without preamble or introduction.

He might've not needed any of that, had it not been for the sudden appearance of a slim-waisted spitfire that wound its way about the tall girl like a familiar boa. This one -- with the harping sort of eyes and unshy smile -- wanted to know who he was immediately. "Duskhall," he announced readily, his withering expression turning away from them both as he realized that he might have to repeat his question to the new arrival of this budding conversation.
It is clear the male is to be persistent and approaches. And a beat later, Witchbaby comes out of nowhere and she jumps with a start, head turning back to greet her. She’s never been so happy to see the other girl and it takes all her effort not to backtrack and stand behind her, despite how much smaller she is. After he explains his purpose, and seemingly introduces himself, she awkwardly smiles and turns to her friend. “I don’t know,” she whispers, ears fallen back on her head and an equally quiet voice, “can we go?”
 
Nudging her friend away, they quickly shuffle away after an awkward departure.