Permafrost Hollows Go Home, You're Drunk

This land was fucking weird. She didn't like it, but if Tezcacoatl was staying, so was she. She just didn't have to like it. She was used to warmer weathers and climates where things actually warmed up and felt alive. This part of the wilds? There was something depressing about it. The ground never fully warmed up. The ice never truly melted. It was cold. Far colder than she was used to and with the cold came the absence of life. Or a lack of it. She was used to forests filled with birdsong. Now? She felt like the only thing birds she heard were the sounds of the silent predators waiting for her to die so they could eat. It was unnerving. 

She felt as though she always had to be alert and listening. Her ears lifted upon her head, hyperaware of any crunching twigs or anything other than the whispering wind. Citali ventured, a bit north of the ridge her prince wished to claim, but she figured if they were moving in, it couldn't hurt to better know the surroundings. Ugh. They were dismal.

Brilliant evergreens stood. Kind of. They more so leaned one direction or the other; as though they couldn't fully stand up. She wandered between them and felt herself leaning with them to slink around their edges. It was strange. That tree was practically sideways, yet somehow it still stood. She wanted to go home. Even the trees in this place were sick. They looked drunk. Staggered. She didn't even understand how they were still alive.

Alas, she wandered and scouted, making the best of it because that was the only option she had at her disposal. If it came down to laughing or crying, she'd have to laugh. There was no way in hell she was gonna let anyone see her cry.

Somehow Posie's adventure took him in to the northlands, to where the earth was lost to permafrost and the sun struggled to get its warmth through the ice-filled mist of morning. Somehow Posie had become lost in a big, dark forest. The pines were familiar only because they reminded him of home; but they grew haphazardly along the ridge, or in too-close clusters, as if they too were huddling for warmth. He did not like this forest (but he did not like most things in the world, so far). The boy's lower lip trembled as he rounded a corner (finding a narrow corridor between some of the trees), but he did not give in to the temptation to cry and wail like a babe. He was cold, and alone, and Posie had never experienced both of those things at the same time, especially in this magnitude. It was spring time but he could see his breath billowing out before him (in pathetic little huffs, no less)! Spring was supposed to be bright, and warm, and filled with new blossoms and new babies! But not here, apparently. And that lack of life really tugged at the poor boy's heart strings. He was so bereft by the depressing atmosphere of the forest, so lost in his own internalized weeping, that he didn't notice the stranger lurking nearby - even as he passed her by, making zero effort to hide his own advance.

Yay! Thanks for joining!

She bristled a bit, her lips curling as a raven crowed overhead. Desolate place. Why her prince had chosen a place such as this was beyond her, but she was stuck with it. With a huff, she turned her attention towards other things. She navigated this tangle of trees and crept through the undergrowth like a champ despite her size. Not muscular, but burly. Big boned, some might call it, but it suited her assertive personality and her desire for perfection within her Amazon world.

Her trek continued up until the moment she caught a rustle in the underbrush. Immediately her eyes narrowed, her ears spun atop her head and she began to search for whoever was nearby. Eyes darted as she whirled around to catch a visual of whoever it was. "Who's there?" she barked, her voice low as she peered through the trees.

Now, there was one thing about Posie that everyone should be aware of. Posie, small and fickle though he may be, is thoroughly terrified of birds. This is understandable, all things considered. But if he sees anything larger than, say, a sparrow - well, he kind of loses his shit (figuratively, and sometimes not so figuratively). When the raven called out in to the darkness of the forest, Primrose heard it loud and clear; the sound made him stand as still as a stone (and well, it made him very aware of his full bladder), and then a change came over the peaceful little boy.

He lurched from the underbrush in full-on panic mode. His head was up, eyes roaming the treetops, while the rest of him practically vibrated with his fear. Thinking that he had spotted the bird's silhouette in the pines, Posie barked and hollered at it, like a hunting dog might bay towards a pheasant. The fool was so wrapped up in his imaginary bird-hunt that he didn't pay any attention to the stranger - even though the stranger called out, closer and louder than the bird.

The raven crowed again, this time from further away and in a different direction. So Posie spun and barked up a storm a second time - only to hesitate, and then stop, when he thought he saw the bird move away through the air. "HAH! SO THERE BIRD. You can't eat me this time!" The boy's voice was filled with glee. The short-lived kind. Because right as the tail-end of his statement erupted from him, he noticed the wolf.

"Oh. I'm sorry, is this.. Is this your forest?"

OMG. He's adorable!

Was that barking? Citlali's brows furrowed, wondering what the heck was going on. Those snarls and grumbling and yips weren't something one often heard in the wilds. Wolves were stealthy predators. They were silent hunters at the top of the food chain with little reason to fear or make a show for any thing at all. The behavior was a strange one and she slunk into the offensive as she wove through the nearby trees and happened upon the small russet male.

Urine. The stench of it was fresh upon the air. She wrinkled her nose and noticed the puddle on the ground. It wasn't altogether strange save for the location. The lift the leg method was generally pretty effective at watering trees. Squaring was more lady like. In the open was plain strange. Urinary issues? She wondered briefly as she watched him bay and bellow. Then stop. Another rustled and he was off again. This kid was a strange one.

He shouted his victory over the bird. Wait. Bird? What? Her eyes glanced skyward for a moment before turning back towards the kid. "This time?" she asked, her curiosity getting the best of her. "You have been eaten by a bird before?" It didn't seem like normal bird behavior; not for grown wolves. For pups? Occasionally, but if they were picked up, they were often killed after the bird dropped him. She was confused as to what he was getting at.

Then he asked her if the forest was hers. Hers? This shit hole? "Yes. I'm the slum queen." Her voice was dry and dripping with sarcasm. "No. Just passing through," she corrected. "What are you doing here?" she was starting to feel like this one might be some kind of lost.

Primrose felt like a fly caught on some sticky paper, or something. He wanted to bolt back in to the forest and cower from the bird (even if it had escaped), but at the same time, he couldn't leave. It felt like his limbs had become roots, and that they had entwined with the frozen ground - much like the roots of the trees around the two of them. The stranger's question, warranted though it may be, made Posie pout slightly. Then he shrugged, and mid-shrug shook his head. "N-no, I guess I haven't. But one time - it was really close! I almost became a bird's lunch!" Or had it been breakfast? What time of day was that again? It was too long ago for him to remember the specifics. All Posie knew was, birds are evil little shits. Except... In nicer terminology.

"I'm doin' the same. Just passing through. I guess." Posie responded as quickly as he could, after the stranger introduced themselves. Whether they were a queen or not, the very mention of the word made Posie stand up straighter; then he bowed, his tail curling against his legs, in a display of carefully practiced grovelling. "I-I'm sorry for interrupting your travels, Queen, miss, uh -" Ohh he was really messing this up now! What was he supposed to say to a queen of all people?! "Your majesty."

Ahh. Right. Almost lunch. She imagined there wouldn't be too much left of him if he'd actually become lunch. And if he had? She figured those scars would be a little more permanent than what his currently appearance let on. Either way. His almost encounter with a bird where he almost became lunch left him... scared of them? Alright. She supposed a fear of birds was fairly common and if this kid was causing such a commotion over a little raven, more power to him. "Oh. Well. Glad to see you're still around then." She paused for a second before adding. "You sure showed it."

She shifted on his paws as he answered his question. Also passing through. It seemed as though that was about all this place was good for. She nodded as his posture shifted. She watched as he bowed towards her, near groveling as he took her sarcasm seriously. "Um," she started, only to realize that he'd stroked her ego in such a way that caused a tight smile to blossom upon her lips. "You majesty will do just fine." Why not right? "Speak your name, good sir. What kingdom do you belong to?"

"Kingdom? Oh, no, I don't -!" Posie fumbled a little when the topic shifted back to him, because really, if anything, he was a commoner. Less than that, really. His parents hadn't been highly respected when they conceived the family; but there had been a compassionate leader at the time, and the pack numbers had been low -- ahh, his mind was racing a little too fast. Stories welled up in his memory, and for a few minutes he was overwhelmed, but the boy composed himself. "My name is Primrose."

To any other wolf - especially of the male persuasion - perhaps having a name as sweet sounding as Primrose would be demoralizing, or emasculating, or whatever. But not for Posie. He spoke softly and swiftly, with a tiny bow accompanying the introduction; then, as an afterthought he added: "But if it, uh, pleases you -- Majesty -- ma'am -- you can call me Posie. Everybody does." His little tail gave a wag, and continued to sway as a lazy pendulum behind his petite self.

No kingdom? "A lone wolf then?" she asked, connecting the dots for him out loud. He seemed hesitant, a timid sort of creature that would not last long on his own. A pity. She fully believed wolves were capable of taking care of themselves. She knew her strengths and her weaknesses well enough that if it came right down to it she could survive if need be. The added support of a family unit only combined their efforts and energy to function as a part of the same whole. There was great value in that. It seemed like such a shame for this one to stay alone.

She cast those thoughts from her mind as he introduced himself. Primerose. She was familiar with the flower for which he was name and thought on it for a moment. It held no true herbal property, but its petals were succulent and tasty to suck upon for as long as they held their flavor. Her thoughts were distracted until he offered a nickname. Posie. How curious. Another flower.

"Tell me, flower child," she started, looking towards him. "Are you seeking a home?" Most wolves were. If not now, then at a later date. It was the perfect season for any wolf to be a loner, but come fall an on into winter, the safety of a pack was of most importance.

backdated to her wandering toward the coast

She had taken the long way "home". For what reasons? Well, to assess. But in time, Bear realized she did not care to assess. She had lived long enough to know that already, but all creatures had lapses in judgment. The climate of this area was insufferable. Time to go. Time to go where she knew the coast would be. Two wolves conversed and Bear lumbered toward them. Although she altered her course to not intersect with their own, she was difficult to miss. To some, it might look like she was doing some predatory hunting movements. To others, it would look like exactly what she intended to do: move along. Still, her eyes were upon them. Wolves were odd ones. While this was not their place, no creature she competed with was overly fond of her. Just as she was not fond of them. Bear walked on, letting loose a quiet grunt-roar. You will be my snack, some might translate. I don't want any trouble, others could hear.

Thank you for rescuing this thread!

Her question lifted to the lone wolf, but he seemed distracted. His attention wavered, leaving Citali to wonder what it was that might have stolen his attention. Watching him for a moment, she realized his gaze was transfixed upon something in the distance. She turned, following his line of sight to rest her eyes upon a bear moving along its own course, but growing too near for them for comfort. She was trained in battle, but it was not a skill she'd kept up. If she could avoid it, she would.

"Scatter," she snapped at the boy, hoping to break him from his spell. If the wolf had any interest in a home, he could find her another time. In this instance? Fleeing was the best course of action. She would not risk a bear. If she were wounded how on earth was she to heal another wolf? She fled.

-thread fade-