Emberwood apocalypse always chooses the worst time to come.

Parted with the companion the shaded woods had delivered to him, he forged southward towards the mountains and the forest before it.

He blended well enough here surrounded by eyemarked aspen in variegated shades of summergreen.  The wind was loud and rather cold as the not-yet-here rain sent the afternoon into a steady decline; it tousled the long, wiry fur collected between his shoulders and rustled the collection of leaves overhead.   From somewhere in the distance rings the hoarse rattle of crowcall.

The sky rolls behind him and he turns to find a shroud of rain approaching, and he finds shelter beneath a conveniently-shaped outcropping before the worst of it hits.

Grezig had been stupid today, not paying much attention to the rain on the wind, so she found herself back in the Emberwood as it began to come down. She should have been back at the mountain with the others by now, but the rain was coming down harder by the second and so she turned back towards the forest to find shelter instead. She sighed internally, hoping the others paid no mind to her absence. She would return to them soon. 

The rain washed away the scent of another nearby, so she did not notice the male until she realized that he was standing beneath the same outcrop she had been hoping to use for shelter. “Can we share?” she asked loudly, over the sound of the rain.

 

Here’s a short post cos I really wanted to thread with this dude.

Company seemed to be drawn to him as of late.  Venemous yellow eyes raked over the woman's buxom form, and his tattered ear flicked in her direction as she demanded asked to share.  Wordlessly he gathered himself and his rangy limbs and moved to one corner of the outcropping, then lay back down.

Be my guest.

Grezig’s tail wagged once or twice behind her when the thin black wolf moved over to make room for her. She shook herself off a bit still out in the rain and then quickly went underneath the outcropping. “Thank you,” she said, and then turned to look out at the weather. She frowned, but kept her irritated thoughts to herself. Under normal circumstances, she might have spoken to the male, but this time that seemed like a bother more than anything else. She’d simply found herself forced to be near him due to the rain. It was not a pleasant day for pleasant conversation, so she stayed silent. Hopefully the rain would pass soon and they could both be on their way. Unless, of course, he chose to speak first.

They sit in silence for some time, him on one end of the outcrop and her on the other.  He is fine with this.  From his position he can tell that she is compact and muscular, he can see it in the way her muscle moves when she repositions herself.  He can smell that she smells like other wolves.

   
Do you hail from here?  His gravely voice breaks between them, but his eyes are trained on the rainfall.

“What do you mean here?” she asked, turning to look at him for a moment. “Here, in this forest? In this land? Either way, no. I come from far away. I dispersed from my family pack when I came of age and found myself… here.” She paused a long while, still not much inclined to talk over the sound of the storm. Eventually, she dragged her mind back to the present and asked, “Where do you come from?” Grezig could not say she was really interested in the answer, as it probably would yield useless information, but she would not shun a conversation if he was trying to start one.

His brows raise at the tone of her response.  She asks for clarification but barrels on with an explanation before he has time to think.  To say the least, he is ... less than impressed.  The inky black line of his lips flatten, and a simple No, is the only response that it seemed the strange woman would be able to purloin from the shadowed stranger.

He crosses one thin foreleg over another, and his tail swishes behind him like an agitated cat as he surveys her from the peripheral of one toxic yellow eye.  Far from here.  A mountain's edge, on the cusp of the ocean.

His response did, indeed, yield useless information. What good did it do her to know that he came from a mountain far away, near the ocean? At the same time, it wasn’t as though him knowing where she came from did him any good, either. Such was the way of most conversations. This is why Grezig spent most of her time doing, as opposed to talking. Talking had its place and could be vital to solving a problem, to be sure, but this… idle chat went against Grezig’s nature. This man was not even a packmate, and so did not require any kind of bonding time with her, either. So why did so many wolves waste their time chatting the day away? She supposed this was different. It was raining and they were stuck together. What else could they do?

In a sarcastic tone of voice, she asked him, “So… what do you like to do for fun?” Might as well keep up the useless banter.

He, too, was a man of actions.  Perhaps it had been a mistake to engage her in conversation, although most of his company did not react this way.  The lovely women he had spent time with in the Wilds had altered his perspective.  It would likely not be a mistake he made again.

But ah, predictably, there is some kind of response.  "I kill things," he teases.  A large burst of thunder rips the air and rolls on and on before he is able to clarify. "There is no time for fun when survival is the end goal."

’I kill things.’

Grezig gave the man a sideways glance at these words, as if to say, ’Oh really?’

A burst of thunder exploded overhead, making conversation impossible for a few seconds. When it had passed he gave what she assumed to be his serious answer—that he basically didn’t do anything for fun because he was too focused on survival. She was starting to like him now, just for that. He sounded like her, and she hadn’t met many wolves who… didn’t do anything for fun. “I agree,” she said, and then looked out at the storm again. 

So, he was preoccupied with survival? Perhaps… “Do you have a pack?” she asked, testing the waters. She did not really know this male, and had made the mistake of recruiting a very strange wolf once (Thorleif). She intended never to make that mistake again, so she would talk to this male for a while and see what she really thought of him first before going ahead and attempting to recruit him.

She shoots him a look and it draws a humorless smirk from the shadowed stranger.  But he seems to have drawn her from her cloistered shell, and for that and that alone he feels like he has won (although that doesn't mean he thinks she has lost.  It is complicated).  

I do not, he admits as he makes an attempt to sniff the air.  The rain makes it difficult.  Do you?

He confirmed that he did not have a pack, and then asked if she did. She gave him another glance out of the corner of her eye, and decided to be honest, at least a bit. “Yes,” she said, though she did not tell him where they were located. “We are… a pack in the making.” She paused. “We are looking for members, but need to know what sorts of skills one possesses before letting others in.” This was true of all packs.

She had not invited him into the pack, not really. But she had given him an invitation to ask questions, or make comments on what he was good at. Then it might be easier for her to make a decision about whether to formally invite him.

 

Archiving this. Hit me up if you want a new thread! <3

However, the dark male did not seem interested in what she had to say, or in giving her his credentials, so to speak. He remained silent, so she said nothing more on the matter. Eventually, the rain let up enough for her to feel comfortable leaving. "Thank you for letting me share the space," she said to him, and then got up and left.