Porcupine Ridge saturday night kind of pink

✹☾❂

 

Ever the vagrant, Eleuthera kept on the move. The coast seemed, for the most part, to be claimed lands — so the lilac shewolf moved inland, but instead of traveling through the flatlands to the southwest, she opted for the more challenging route through the mountains. Perhaps it was that she had been born on a mountain that made it so, but Eleuthera had always a knack for climbing. Secretly, however, Eleuthera suspected it was more than the circumstances of her birth, because Séamus had been born at the very same time, upon the very same sunspire, and he did not entertain his sister’s proclivities for climbing.

Séamus…

The terrain had become more and more hostile. As she departed from the coast, it was no more than low-intensity hills and mountains that were well-worn and sustained life — easily several million years old at the point she graced their slopes. This did not last long. Eleuthera reached a peak that was so high that, to cross it meant that she must see and experience snow in the dead of summer. It was strange and made the sprite feel uneasy, but instead she pushed on (she always had been the more headstrong of the two, and in need of her brother’s restraint). Then the woman found herself in the midst of broken ground and twisting stone; jagged edges upon which she tore the pad of her foot and now as she climbed, she left a distinct bloody footprint upon the sun-beaten stone.

It was impossible to miss that fact that there was little way forward — from this tip-top vantage point, the woman could almost see into the valley below them; a place that might have been her saving grace had it not already been occupied by a pack (this was easily scented on the wind), and had there been any way to descend from these godforsaken peaks... something of which, Eleuthera could find none. She must pick her way back the way she came, Eleuthera mustered, but her foot seared with pain and fresh blood whenever she pressed upon it. 

Quite certain that she was lost and spending the night in an angry, sadistic environment that did not want her there, Eleuthera sat in the weak, hot shade of a large rock and began licking at her wound. 

someone halp

the rock is hostile as it rises ever higher, and yet, something draws the wolf onward. the path she cuts through the rock is by no means efficient; each step is made with careful deliberation, unwilling (but entirely unable to) allow her soft paw pads to fall prey to the cutting rock. much of the day had been spent here, seeking that connection, that curious draw toward a place that meant it would serve as her home. but despite the little glens and valleys, juxtaposed here against the harshness, she knows that she will end up moving on. 

she has been a wanderer so long she wonders if she has become disillusioned; she has seen great mountains and wetlands filled with life, windswept moors and verdant woods, and yet none compare with her once-weald. 

the scent of blood, faint yet heady in the evening air. auds swept to alertness atop her head, and carefully did the Rabe make her way toward the source. pawprints, then, pressed only recently against the rock, intermingled with the scent of wolf. no meal would come of this, then, but after a moment the woman elects to follow after the prints. 

she is a fair distance away, and had the wayward soul not paused for rest, she doubts she would have found her so swiftly. but movement beneath the shadow of boulder brings her to rest, still some distance away. tail sways, head lowering as chin points in the direction of the girl, dark eyes seeking to pick out her figure from the shadow.

✹☾❂

 

There was something about this place made Eleuthera feel uneasy. Her connection with the earth had always been strong, perhaps blood-born, and she came into this world with a keen sense of intuition. This place had caused her injury and kept her trapped within a maze of serrated spires. Eleuthera wanted to immediately be rid of this place, but she would go nowhere, fast, hobbling along on three legs. She was already exhausted.

Eleuthera snapped to attentionn. Every cell was alert and pointed towards an indiscriminate location behind her. She was not alone. ”Who's out there?” she called, lilac eyes cutting against the sun (which was quite strong and undiluted at this elevation) to see if this was wolf or prey, friend or foe. ”Show yourself!” the woman barked, figuring it was better to let this stranger know she was, at least, alert — at best, she was protecting herself, and at worst, she was being just a little abrasive. Eleuthera quickly pulled herself into a standing position, wobbling at first to gain her balance, but then splayed her tripod of legs out from under her to widen her center of gravity. Her bruised and bleeding paw was curled in, close to her chest.

the voice lanced against the rock, made sharper, perhaps, by the altitude. the shadow remains still, until finally, she is able to make out clearly the outline of the girl. she wavers on three limbs, providing perhaps an explanation for her bloodied trail. 

the wraith slips nearer, carefully navigating the cutting rock, pausing once to test a particularly sharp section of her path. when she comes neatly within what she guesses to be the stranger's clear line of sight, she becomes still once again. it is clear to see, here, the way she curls her paw against her chest. a sway of her tail, a sharp flick of her ears, and the shadow moves to perch neatly on her hindquarters. head cants, questioning.

✹☾❂

 

It is almost was like a game a choice — who was going to make the next move. Eleuthera waited for the masked creature to show itself, and the unknown wolf also waited for Eleuthera to come into full view. Thankfully, in her efforts to come into an upright position, the lilac woman did disclose her location and identity, unintentionally inviting the greyscale woman closer.

Not an immediately distrustful wolf, Eleuthera was satisfied with whomst walked out from amongst the shadowed stone spires. She dropped her guard almost immediately, feeling comfortable that this silent wolf was a female, too. “Oh,” she breathed, giving the woman a sheepish smile. Turned out that she had erred on the side of abrasive, and she hoped she had not already squandered her good fortune.

“Excuse me, but,” Eleuthera called out, this time warmer, kinder. “Do you know a way out of here?” She glanced around at her sunbaked surroundings, wishing it was not the height of the day and gruelingly hot. “I didn’t realize it was a dead end.” and suddenly, Eleuthera wondered if she too was lost. If that was the case, at least she now had a companion with whom she could overturn what vexed her.

voice calls out once more, this time, markedly different in tone. the sun bakes against her back, sinking ember-tipped fingers into the darkest whirls of her coat, lending the air a shimmering quality. the shadow shifts, longing to sink back into the comfort of the lowlands. lost. it is not unexpected, so does not know any good reason one would find themselves up here willingly. 

a dip of her chin, and she slides back to her paws. a neat motion of her muzzle, one which clearly invites the other to follow. she may not know the best path, but the way back to the little glen she'd come from remain clear enough in her mind. she takes a step back the way she'd come, peering back to see if the stranger would require any more convincing, not that she could offer much of any.

✹☾❂

 

 Eleuthera needed no more convincing. She rode towards and after the silent woman following the waif’s brief, unspoken introduction and a nod towards the supposed exit, a thousand questions buzzing in her head. She wanted to know who this woman was, why she had been up to these heights — was she here to rescue her? If so, who had sent her? It seemed as if this woman was the stoic type, however, and Eleuthera was not keen to turn her new friend off so quickly. Eleuthera kept her lips pressed tightly together, ne’er a word escaping.

Even though she now had the intention to light her movements, and a partner with the knowledge to help guide her, Eleuthera’s foot still proved to be a hindrance.  She wobbled between walking of four legs and walking upon three, but the site of the wound caused her no small amount of pain. However, there was nothing that could be done about it right now — it would have to wait until later. When the unnamed woman looked back to check on her, Eleuthera offered her a soft smile and hobbled right along.

the woman follows, though her wobbling is not lost on the wraith. her companion is fallen into silence, though she need not voice her discomfort in order for the shadow to notice it. she continues only a few meters more before pausing, allowing the distance between the two of them to shrink. 

she moves to walk alongside the woman, ears sweeping in query as her gaze finds the paw she favours. "are you okay?" asks the cant of her muzzle, warming to the stranger. this near, she can make out the distinct notes of rose and cedar that cling to a pelt she imagines would be silken to the touch. she cannot reason what this woman, made with gentle softness, is doing among the harshness of this place.

✹☾❂

 

It isn’t long before Eleuthera started to lag behind and an apprehensive whine began to roll around emptily in her throat, not wanting to be left behind. She was all but about to raise her voice and call out to the mystery woman, but at that very same moment, the waif paused in her forward march and waited to alight at her side.

When they finally met abreast of one another, the silverwoman canted her maw and seemed to inquire about Leu’s minuscule, but majorly handicapping, wound. Eleuthera held her feathered foreleg out, so that the state of her paw could be acknowledged by all. “These rocks are out for revenge," she noted lightly. “At least it stopped bleeding."

Now closer than she had been before, Eleuthera took this opportunity to observe her new companion as well. She was silent, but not unkind or uncaring. “Who are you?" the lady of lilac inquired, not sure if she would get a response. In the end, she did not. Eleuthera, wholly unable to have an interaction that relied on bright words and sly turns of phrase, she followed the wisp as she descended the mountain and then bid adieu.