Wolf RPG

Full Version: her voice makes the earth gape, it lures the spirits from the tombs
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It was late in the evening by the time she had crossed the threshold onto the plateau. Her limbs were weary, and her eyes hung heavily with a sleepy spell that had fallen over her head. Seafret moved, but only because she was willed by the sound of whispers that had come from beyond. She had followed the shore in silence, and it had been deafening to her to be missing the sounds of her sweet visitors who dwelled on the other side of the veil. She longed for them, and it had only just been when she had stepped onto the plateau that she had heard them once more.
 
Ahead, she could see a stretch of land that seemed to go on for ages. She wondered if she ought to slow her pace and rest for the night there, continue on the day after. Something stirred, and she felt a powerful darkness had entered the world, but it was only just out of her reach. Drawing her head upward, Seafret drank in the scent of brine and saline that hung so heavily on the air. She continued in spite of her weary frame, searching for what they had brought her there for.


The mountain is fair and Phocion and Cortland's company good, but Poet tries to carve space for herself in a way she is not used to. Belonging is easy to find, routines quick to establish. Perhaps what she's been lacking is unpredictability. An unwillingness to look outside what she finds most comforting. 

So she winds herself along the shore, tasting the salt as idle memories wash over her. She is alone until she is no longer, drawn toward a raised plateau off the coast. Interweaving maps of scents, wolves long since gone, their meandering paths crisscrossed and untraceable: and a fresh scent. A stranger nearby. She follows the trail curiously to the sight of the woman, who even in the thick blanket of night descending upon them is a fetching dab of orange. For a moment she hesitates, but she's close enough to be noticed now, anyway, and so chuffs softly into the still-young night to announce her presence.