Wild Berry Meadow If it feels like a kick in the teeth, I can take it

@Thyri

Now, with the Blackfeather's official, new "leader", Nyx found it time to take a little vacation somewhere. To clear her mind, she decided, and rid herself of the dreams she once held when Damien was not a wreck in the tunnels. She needed new ambitions and dreams, and one she had already figured out; make Vaati fall madly in love with her. Often the strongest bonds grew from roots of hatred, and since they had come to an agreement already, why not make it easy for everybody? Though she herself had bound her heart to the original Forest King already, there was no telling who had Vaati's heart's ropes tied tightly around where most thought love came from. Perhaps there was no one, but she knew well what it was like to be so young and... hopeful - open for love. She had experienced it herself not so very long ago. She liked to act older than she actually was, mostly because she felt at least a year or two.

Her feet took her to a place she remembered rather well. It wasn't far and the slight nibbles of autumn berries kept her entertained for a while. The chill of winter would soon wash over them, but the Woods would flourish. She knew it.

Thyri moves through the Wild Berry Meadow, tracking the scent of a scrappy fox she had lost in the thick underbrush. Most of it is dead and spindly but there are autumn berries that still defiantly hang on and she knows that there are winter berries, too, that will bloom soon. The sickly sweet scent of berries is still strong, even when most of the berries are long decayed and their bushes are out of bloom. The thespian queen rather thinks that the scent will always linger here: that soil has absorbed too much of sweet and bitter berry juices not to give off that familiar smell: a smell that she thinks is likely tempting for ungulates seeking to scavenge food in the harsher months of winter. A shock of black pelage stands out in stark contrast against the dustings of snow and the colors of autumn, drawing the champagne and cremé colored woman’s light, caramel gaze. She lifts her muzzle to scent at the air, unsure if the other woman has caught her own scent yet, and deduces that she is from the same pack as that flame-kissed boy. The one whose claimed land is close-by.

Thyri lets out a low chuff to announce her presence to the woman whom appears to be enjoying the autumn berries, if the sound of sharp teeth breaking through the flesh of fruit is of any indication ( and it is ). “Hello,” Thyri offers as she draws nearer, stopping a respectful distance away as she assesses the other woman with a quick glance. It would appear that her pelage is not all ink: broken by speckles of white: like starlight painted across the night sky. Pretty, Thyri thinks absently.

Speckled ears swiveled already at the sound of paws crushing dead meadow flora, but that a stranger would ever approach her here had not been on her mind. The lake, yes, but here she had never spoken to another soul. Or had she? Somehow, the time spent outside of the Woods had become a less important part of her memories. Sure, she was an adventurer at heart (though she had yet to discover this herself), but being what she was in her home... It took something out of her.

A salmon tongue lapped her chops clean as she lifted and tilted her head towards the call, mismatched eyes staring rather chilly at the other, lithe yet pleasing to look at female. She swallowed up the last bits of remaining berry mush in her mouth before she spoke, voice somewhat less harsh than usual. Greetings.

Thyri is taken aback slightly, her reaction hidden behind a carefully composed facade as the darker woman looks to her with her mis-matched eyes. This is not a phenomenon that Thyri has seen before and she spends a bit longer upon the other woman’s eyes, wondering what causes it and wonders if the woman is a chimera. The look in the other woman’s eyes is chilled but it does not truly faze Thyri. There was nothing that had unsettled her ( and drew her in ) as the titan reaper’s fiery gaze. Chilly is a look she can deal with. The women speaks to her, returning the greeting with a much more formal word. Ah, but Thyri thinks: she’s always been rubbish with small talk. Easily, she could comment upon the weather but she didn’t really want to. “What kind of berries are you eating?” Eating berries appears to be a popular thing in these Wilds — her belief in this garnered from her encounter from the other female that bears a dark pelage but not one broken with dustings of starlight as this one. Thyri does not consider herself an omnivore: she enjoys her meats …and already knows that she does not like raspberries but only because licking the juices from her paw had been a necessity that first time. “Are they a regular staple of wolves in this particular region?” Thyri inquires with a tease of amusement upon her facial features. She could not recall her siblings of seeing anyone in Drageda eat them but perhaps different regions of the Wilds all have their unique quirks.

Berries that will not poison me. She answered, looking back at her home for a moment. She did not like talking to strangers if there was nothing to gain. She looked back at the lithe appearance of the woman though, also not wanting to be rude. She was better than that, she believed.

I do not think so, no, but I do not go out much. She answered honestly, her tone already sounding like she was done with talking. If there was no reason for the approach, she did not want it to be.