Verdant Basin ignite

It had been days now since she'd last seen her brother. To some degree she worried for him. She wondered too, alongside her misgivings, if he had turned back for home and the promise of battles to come? No warrior wishes to follow a seer on any path; they diverge too often, and Saga knows it was never his intent to be chosen for this. She needed no protecting — or so she thought now, in the softer lands of the south — and so she would not concern herself too much with thoughts of him. Beyond the great need Saga held for the resolution of her quest, she greatly missed her home. Thoughts of her brother would inevitably lead back there. Thus, she would have to shut off her mind when it wandered back to him — she could do this on her own, as she often did things.

As the girl loped across the lowlands she scented water, and deviated her course. It was not the salt of the sea that pulled at her heartstrings, but a great thirst that had instilled itself within her body when she climbed the mountain; and so she stopped when the brook became more readily apparent, carefully found a place to root herself, and drank deeply. As she dipped her head for a second taste there came a rustling in the foliage to her right flank, and her head shot up — her eyes wide and surprised, then narrowed, as she turned and scrutinized the realm around her. A line of water dribbled off of her chin, but she paid this no mind. She was not a vain creature, and cared little if how she looked perturbed others. 

Perhaps it was her companion returned to her?
After some moments of waiting, of watching, there was only emptiness. Saga exhaled sharply from her nose, licked her lips, and resumed her bobbing for water.

As she traveled, Starbuck grew bolder. Every few days she would go out, leaving behind Donnelaith and her friends to see the land. All of the territory immediately surrounding the Sentinels was now intimately familiar to her. The paths she took around the twisted slough and the pack upon the river felt well trodden to her, so often she had taken them. Further and further she pushed into the depths of the wilderness, and as she grew more confident, her trips grew longer. What were once daytrips had turned into overnights, and now she would spend two nights and return on the eve of the third day.

This was one such trip. Past the forest, the plataeu, and even the gap between the mountains she went. Night came and she slept beneath the boughs of an ancient tree, and as she slept it whispered to her as the old willow had. Onward her legs carried her, until she came upon a body of water so blue she thought she had found herself at the ocean again. Along its shores she came upon a dark smudge of a wolf at rest drinking deeply of the clear water. Hail! she called when still far away.

She was mid-swallow when a voice broke from behind her, and on cue with that, the sparrows of the surrounding trees took flight. The beating of wings was more surprising than the vivacity with which the approaching stranger called out, yet together — and all at once — Saga was set on edge. Her tail shot up and a chill worked down the fur of her neck, while her snout splashed the river water outward. She spun and looked around, her eyes wide and bright, and it was only a few second later that she settled for watching to oncoming entity. The girl shook her shoulders and face to rid herself of the water that still clung to her muzzle (and maybe to brush off the extra energy after being caught by surprise), and let a small smile drift across her features. She did not approach nor did she speak, but rather, she watched, and held firm to her position.

Starbuck watched the sparrows take flight with naked wonder upon her face. Once again it seemed that she had startled the very wolf she wished to speak with, and the first words out of her mouth were not customary greetings nor niceities, but a quickly piped, my apologies! I did not mean to startle you! But even once she stopped in an attempt to appear less like she was charging down the stranger, the very same stranger eased. Starbuck took this as an invitation to approach, and so she did. Hello, she said once she had drawn nearer. She bowed her head in greeting, then looked up to watch the woman's reaction.

The creature that approached seemed apologetic, but to be truthful Saga had already put aside the fright she had experienced; the oncoming stranger did not appear to be aggressive and so she presumed it had been entirely accidental. Still, she did not move to intercept them. It seemed readily apparent that the tawny wolf would bridge that gap, so Saga remained poised upon the cool river's edge and basked in the softness of her surroundings. The sound of the river slipping by was a soothing thing, one she had never experienced from any water source before — the sea often raged, and this vein of it was quite different.

When the stranger was closer, spouting apologies and another greeting, Saga murmured a soft hello, and dipped her dark snout. Her eyes roamed across the stranger swiftly, gathering valuable information as innocuously as she could; it would be rude to stare. But this woman was very different from the wolves she was accustomed to — more like herself actually — in the way that she was compact, narrow, and fleet-footed. They did not look like a warrior to Saga, not like her brothers or the beasts of her natal pack, which made her ask a silent and internalized question: am I too, a southern creature?

Her thin smile did not falter, although there was little mirth in her eyes as she turned away from her new companion and looked upon the water. She didn't know what to say to this wolf as her conversational skills were rather lacking, but she tried, and finally queried: Is the south always this... Mild?

Of all the things to talk about, and Saga chooses the weather. How mundane.

Her greeting returned, Starbuck smiled prettily and studied the woman. She, too, was a slim thing, a being seemingly carved of the pre-dawn dark. The light shone warmly upon her, revealing undertones that would otherwise remain hidden. She had eyes of fire and seemed to be friendly, setting Starbuck's tail to wagging. Hello indeed! I am called Starbuck, she introduced. 

An awkward silence fell as the woman turned to look upon the water. She looked so lovely, so soft and at peace, that Starbuck was loathe to disturb her. 

Conversations about weather might bore another wolf, but Starbuck was merely pleased to make conversation. She would not press for a deeper connection if it was unwanted. If they were to be friends, true and lasting friends, then such a time would come. For now, the weather was as good a topic as any. Indeed it is, she said. Though you may find it more bitter in the winter. Perhaps not, though. You speak as though you are from the North? There was something in the woman's voice, a hint of an accent similar to that of Lærke. Perhaps they even knew each other!

Starbuck.

A curious, queer little name. Then again, her own name was a long and arduous thing when spoke in full; including the title that she had inherited — Witch-Seeker — then Saga was an odd duck indeed. She did not speak of this openly but rather, regarded the stranger with her bright eyes, although there was little warmth there. Such things were reserved for family. But she was happy to have company after so many days alone — wishing in part that it was her brother that had found her, Saga looked upon the bright side now, and her smile grew.

Indeed, she spoke softly, barely loud enough to be heard above the rushing river, which was opposite to the vivacious manner in which Starbuck spoke her own words; there was a subtle accent to every sound as well, hearkening to the many slavic and nordic influences that produced her. My brothers call me Saga; I am a daughter of Brynhildr, descendant of Ragnar the Great. She spoke this plainly as well, as it was customary to introduce oneself by naming their lineage — it was habit. But afterwards, Saga dipped her head and nervously averted her gaze, the wolf equivalent of blushing. I suppose... That is meaningless here. Ah, I am not sure of the customs in this place.

Vibrant was her manner, as it was in all things. Though Starbuck had initially hoped for a wolf wise in the lay of the land, she was just as pleased to meet a newcomer to the Wilds. The woman smiled, and Starbuck was stuck by how attractive she was. You look very lovely when you smile, she said shyly, this comment coming softer and more timid than her others.

A noble lineage, no doubt, she said. Saga's embarrassment was endearing, though Starbuck was quick to reassure her. By now time had taught her that not all wolves of this land were as tactile as she, and where once she might have touched Saga, she refrained. Part of Starbuck feared that these wilds were changing her, hardening her. She quelled that anxious little thought and continued speaking. Where you are from is never meaningless, sweet Saga! This is an unfamiliar land to me as well, but what I have seen of it is encouraging. It is a place of great diversity. Perhaps you will find wolves with a similar culture to yours.

To hear such compliments cast her way was rare, and made her once again bob and smirk a tiny smile askance from Starbuck's view. Saga had been told such things by her mother before, although rarely, and had not been of interest to many menfolk growing up, so while such things were not impossible, they did make her feel a bit out-of-place, but oddly glad. She mumbled a demure, o-oh, thank you, and played her tongue across her lips and teeth, a habit she had held since childhood.

I would like that. To see others like myself, but then she paused, and as she lifted her head and locked her bright eyes upon the other woman, her smile grew a little. But I think I like meeting strangers more. There are more of them. And.. I do admit, I like to learn of new things. It was not the purpose of her adventure however; this truth she felt in her heart, and looked away from Starbuck so that she could watch the water pulsing by once more — contemplative. She briefly wondered if she would see Matej again, or the spirit from her dreams, the one which had led her this far.

To Starbuck, Saga seemed to light up under the compliment, her reaction a bright mix of humility and bashfulness that indicated a woman not used to such praise. Starbuck couldn't why not, but found she greatly enjoyed eliciting such a reaction. She let out a little giggle, like the ringing of bells, and smiled back. Starbuck you useless lesbian. 

Perhaps I can help you, she offered. In fact, I know that I can. I come from Donnelaith, a pack by the sea. We are a varied group, but among us there lives a northman by the name of Lærke. And I am a witch, a soothsayer. If you do not wish to meet Lærke, nor any of the wolves of Donnelaith, I can help you find the way forward. The last time she had done a reading for another wolf had been Deirdre, when she first came to the Wilds. It was high time she offered her services again.

Perhaps I can help you, the woman offered, upon which Saga looked expectantly at her; it was curious to phrase things like that, as if she needed aid, but perhaps she did. Meeting others had never been a comfortable thing for the dark girl, and she was in this strange new place -- but the more the woman spoke, the odder things sounded. Especially when Starbuck labelled herself as a witch, a soothsayer. If you do not wish to meet Laerke, nor any of the wolves of Donnelaith, I can help you find the way forward --

A witch? Saga parroted, and her little voice sounded as if it had strengthened in resolve, but perhaps it was merely her curiosity. She licked her lips again as if to speak, yet fell silent and thoughtful, for she did not wish to say the wrong thing. Saga had never truly met a witch before; her special moniker (granted due to the elders believing she was touched in some way, spiritually, or supernaturally) had never held much weight to her. Yet now, within the company of a self-proclaimed seiðr, she was oddly unnerved. The girl managed to drum up enough courage to ask, Are there many of you in this place? These wilds, or.. Or that which you named, Donnelaith?

Truthfully, she did not know how to process the information that had been granted to her. A part of her wished to flee and not think about it; another was keen to understand and to learn, for she had been raised among the tales of supernatural things and had plenty of her own strange dreams to make her eager for it.

I don't understand why the font tag keeps breaking and its making me angry! lmao

it's fine! i didn't even notice lmao

Starbuck was proud of what she was, of what she had become. Her skills were latent, but she had spent her life nurturing them, and now she considered herself a rather skilled Seer. She was not shy in admitting it, and saw no reason to conceal that which she considered her greatest strength. So she was proud when she nodded firmly in confirmation. 

Something about this revelation had shocked Saga, though for her part Starbuck could not imagine why. This was something she had been raised with, and even here in the Wilds magic was wielded. Saga asked if there were others like her, and the coywolf thought immediately and fondly of Potema and Deirdre. There are! she trilled, cheered just by the thought of her dearest friends. There is a girl like me in Donnelaith. Another lives in these wilds, though we do not reside in the same pack. Her tail swept behind her, slow and easy, for she was content.

Was she, herself, a witch? This was a question that flit vaguely at the back of her mind, one she did not want to ask of herself. But if they were not so rare at all - as Starbuck went on to list two others - then perhaps it wasn't a fact to be feared. Then again, Saga had never met a witch, only been told that she had some sort of ability. Were witches good? Were they evil? The hairs at the back of her neck prickled as she continued to digest the information, but she couldn't let the conversation stagnate without bringing attention to her misgivings.

And how.. How did you know you were a witch? If it is not too bold of me to ask, yet as she spoke and the words filled the space between them, Saga was finding herself increasingly anxious about the conversation. She did not wish to overstep any boundaries, and was becoming a little bit antsy for an escape; yet at the same time she was desperately curious, and it was difficult to satisfy these juxtaposed reactions.

Unaware of the termoil Saga faced, Starbuck merely smiled. The thought that someone could be frightened by her never would have come to her. She knew that she was a benign creature. She only wished to help others, and to use her every ability to do so.

Starbuck was always thrilled to talk about her magic, and immediately began explaining. I learned I was a Seer when I was very young, she said. I predicted the death of one of the daughters of a brahman, a priest. After this, I continued to have glimpses of the future. And so I knew! That she had not been fond of this daughter remained unspoken. The girl was older and larger and would often pull on Starbuck's tail. Starbuck did not mourn her long, but she was not the one to kill the girl, either.

As she listened to this brief tale, Saga's eyes widened, and she let out a small gasp, for she was in awe of such an ability. But then she seemed to fade; finding her thoughts were overwhelming her, and she needed a moment to control them before too many words fell unbidden from her lips. It took some concentration for her to put aside some thoughts, sort others, and finally ask, Do these others you speak of - do they have similar abilities? Or are you all different? Saga found herself reclining back as they spoke, relaxing somewhat, but she was still mentally on-edge from the discovery that witches were indeed real. And most importantly — that she might be one of them. This was a truth she refused to delve in to for the time being. If witches were defined by one singular ability, then she would consider herself safe; but her own dreams were so similar in nature to those described by Starbuck, and thus Saga was filled with curiosity.

Saga gasped obligingly, which drew a smile from Starbuck, who was a proud and vain creature. The other girl fell silent, seeming to process what Starbuck had just told her. The story was a bit grim, and perhaps even macabre, but while Starbuck hadn't aimed to shock, she also wasn't one to lie. In response to Saga's newest question, Starbuck shook her head. Theirs are different, she said. Magic is in the air and the earth and in all that we do. It is as varied and beautiful as every soul that walks this earth. Mine is the magic of the water, the wind, and the stars. Saga seemed so interested, that Starbuck next thought to ask, tell me, do you think you might share these skills? It would be so wonderful to have found another witch, a sister not by blood or choice but by arcane ties.

While she was curious, a part of her did not want to know of all the different abilities a witch could hold, as it would place her closer to being one herself; if it was all dream-oriented, she was already on the cusp. Yet as Starbuck explained it, the concept of magic and witches seemed more in-depth than anything Saga could fathom. When questioned about her own skills, she tried to remain calm and collected, and to shrug it all off so as not to draw too much attention to herself, because she did not really want to be a witch. Besides, all she had to show as an ability — which Saga was now hesitant to consider as a real ability at all — were her dreams of the Yellow-Eyed Man.

Well, I... no, her tongue flicked out over her lips with that nervous tic again, and Saga shook her little head, denying anything was amiss with her. She did want to tell the woman of her dreams, but at the same time, they were the last vestiges of home she possessed, not to mention they were what set her apart from the others of her pack — distant though she was from them — and to be told they were not rare abilties at all, well... It all put a damper on her self-worth. Saga swallowed a small lump in her throat, and then tried to appear up-beat: I like the sound of your voice, she fibbed hastily, although it wasn't entirely a lie, and, as I said before, I enjoy learning.

The woman denied any real magic ability, and Starbuck misread her tone as dissapointed. Worry not, dear Saga, she said sweetly. All of us have magic. It is the small magic that epitomizes the world's beauty, and it is the most important magic. It is the magic that makes one very good at finding four leaf clovers while another has the best of luck finding plump squirrels. Starbuck had been raised with the understanding that the magic of the world flowed through every living beast. It manifested in great beauty, or strength, or intelligence. It manifested itself in ways both great and small, and she appreciated each.

Starbuck giggled girlishly at the compliment. You are sweet, she replied. She was very excited to hear that Saga was interested in her ways, that she enjoyed learning- even of magic! If you have any questions, any at all, ask me. I would be so delighted to teach you anything you wish to know. Why, we could even try some basic magic. You may have abilities you are unaware of! And oh! wouldn't that be wonderful?

Saga was innocent with her words, having never been around anyone long enough to develop anything beyond familial affection, and that was mostly because her natal pack had been made up of family anyway. There was no room for crushes or for any extra-curricular attachments; while her tiny fib-turned-compliment could've been misconstrued, she was unaware. The sound of the woman's laughter and her general glee made Saga smile a bit brighter though, and she let her tail wag as a slow pendulum, until the mention of testing magic.

It had been enough to lie and dissuade Starbuck from delving in to Saga's abilities before, but now Saga did not know what to do. Would testing reveal some sort of grand and secret power? Something corrupt within her? Or maybe she didn't have the power at all — of this she was hopeful — but the girl was also very much afraid now, and still quite ignorant in the ways of magic and their manifestations. She shook her head but pasted a nervous smile across her face to temper the moment. Perhaps in the future. I am on a journey and am seeking... someone. I must find them. Perhaps I will come this way again and you can show me your Donnelaith.

i lost this post like, three times in the middle of writing it, so unfortunately you get whatever this is :(

Saga's lack of inclination to try magic was both disappointing and difficult to understand. The disappointment manifested in a slight droop of her ears, but her otherwise cheery demeanor masked any other outward signs. Saga's disinterest confused Starbuck, who could no sooner imagine fearing magic than she could imagine the star falling from the sky. It was impossible for her to imagine Saga's fears, as to her they had no reason to be, and so they did not exist.

I wish you luck in your journey, then, said the Seer. May the road and the fates be kind to you. Starbuck's tail flicked excitedly at the thought that Saga might come to visit Donnelaith. Then she could introduce her to Deirdre, who would also have insight on the world of magic. You are always welcome to visit Donnelaith. We would be happy to recieve you. She then waited to see if Saga had any more to say, or if she would leave their conversation at that.

Bummer! Hate when that happens. Fading here! We gotta revisit this pair in the future omg.

With some kind words the two would separate, and Saga's mind remained filled with the many layers of her thoughts. She was curious of this Donnelaith, deeply so, but she had a mission and to be waylayed for her own selfish reasons seemed wrong in some way; not to mention the anxiety she felt, which spurred her to place some distance between herself and Starbuck. It wasn't the woman that she feared, but the forces that Saga thus far did not understand to their fullest potential. With more tutelage she may become a more open-minded creature, but for now she is content to say her farewells and be on her way. Thank you. I am intrigued — and whether this journey takes me days or years, I hope to one day return and learn from you. It was nice to meet you, Starbuck.

Thus the pair went their own ways, and while Saga had kind words to spare for her newfound ally, she did her best to seek out and avoid the woman's lingering scent due to an apprehension she might be misdirected in to Donnelaith, to where the witches sat in wait. Little did the girl know she would end up there regardless of her own will; the fates were pulling all of her strings.