Phantom Hollow and he rose up, passed over the river
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@Moorhen (timelines? what are those)



The river intersected and split like the tip of a snake's tongue, and it was here that the grizzled wolf found himself lingering. He did not like being sequestered in the darkness of the wood as he was a superstitious beast, so he tread lightly. Or, rather, as lightly as his bulky body could manage, and he tried to act as casual as possible lest he invite bad fortune. As he passed a gathering of ferns at the crux of two old conifers, he paused and dragged a mark in the soil — then another. When he was finished there was a simple shape left behind, a rune or some such nonsense, and he visibly calmed afterwards. The darkness of this foul place would not enter him; he was protected now, blessed by the sacred mark.
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Leaving her companions under Venninne's care, Moorhen had ventured forth to explore. She was on the lookout for any suspicious activity - and a strange male in the woods was suspicious enough to set her bristling. Her stance, though, was carefully neutral as she observed the other's actions. He was digging, which seemed a natrual pursuit to the dark shewolf. She did not question his actions or motives in the least, there.

She approached, lingering around the edges of polite distance for conversation. Not near enough to speak at normal levels, but not far enough that he would have to wonder if she was speaking to him. "How do you do," she greeted, fumbling through the odd greeting that had been taught to her by one wolf or another - she didn't understand what it meant, and like small children who think 'elemeno' is a part of the alphabet, Moorhen simply thought it was another string of sounds that meant 'hi'.
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The boy was concentrating on the mark, his head bowed, so he did not see the woman as she approached through the dark. He heard movement though, and his ears pivoted, then his head turned in time to catch her earth-toned features in his golden eyes. She was a creature of the forest, he thought. But when she spoke she seemed like something else — and the scent of saline was prevalent too, stronger than any pine scent that the trees might've shared.

For a moment Gilead wasn't sure what to make of her; typically he could judge a person by the shade of their fur, their scent, or their gender. She was inferior in some aspects but also not native to these woods, same as him. And her voice was friendly enough. If this was a demon, it was doing a good job at passing for a mortal.

I am well, he responds in his usual manner, gruff and lethargic. He turns from the mark in the soil and advances towards her. If she is a demon he is unafraid — Gilead is physically strong and he has the Lord on his side to protect him spiritually. You are a long way from home, he estimates aloud, do you feel the power of the woods as well?
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The man responded without aggression, which was a point in Moorhen's book. Still, when he turned and started toward her, she warned him back with a flash of teeth, her stance stiffening as she prepared to defend herself.

"No," she said in response to her question. The woods were just a stand of trees, to her. Only the sea held any true magic for the Cairn girl, and it was not so much a power that she felt as a tradition she observed.
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She is a substantial creature, which he takes in with some surprise, and yet a woman, so Gilead is not afraid nor is he offended by her petulant display. If anything, he feels empowered by her distrust; he sees her reaction, temporary though it was, to be a sign that she is intimidated. And she ought to be. He is one of the Lord's chosen; beyond being created to serve Raas, Gilead holds the stalwart belief that he has been touched by God. It is a dangerous thing to believe oneself to be holy.

Her answer is of importance as well — a refusal. A clear dislike to the association. If she loathes the forest so much, perhaps she is a wayward soul seeking the Light. That is good, you remain pure. Tell me — do you travel alone? It is an eerie thing to say aloud, but he doesn't realize this until he has said it. No matter. If she is bothered by his investigation he will find another avenue of discourse. As he speaks he slowly, deliberately, moves towards her - oddly predatory.