Wolf RPG

With the brunt of the Dragon's forces out to visit the maplewood, Seregryn had been tasked to stay back. She did not wish to stay back, which only meant she would be ignoring the orders of her heda — but what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her. She planned to be back before the war was over; hopefully with some sort of prize to hide away among the dark recesses of the territory, where only she could access it. Something fine, something beautiful maybe.

Seregryn didn't bother with the river this time. If anyone was there, they would've been wiped out by the esteemed warriors of Drageda. The mere thought of them enjoying the carnage of war made her bitter, and with each passing moment the girl was growing more agitated. The fact she was missing out was horrendous. It was the worst experience (or non-experience) of her short life!

Before long her anger had powered her across a far-off meadow, and then she headed north towards the nearby ridge. Her desire to see the battle was second only to her own survival; if Thuringwethil caught her doing anything outside the bounds of her orders, she assumed she would be penalized. Or perhaps Seregryn could play up her youth? Whatever came of her adventure, it was her adventure. Nobody could control where she went or what she did — least of all the heda, even if the girl respected her.

The ridge was populated by the sparse remains of trees. It smelled thickly of death, and upon scouting beyond the stonework of the ridge, Seregryn was taken aback by how ruined the landscape appeared. She wondered what had caused such upheaval. As she passed beneath the twisted black trunk of a long-dead tree, something shifted inside of the remains and she heard a crunch — and then through dashing hastily out of the way, Sere managed to narrowly avoid being smote by a falling chunk of something which had been lodged up high. Curious, she reached out with her snout to inspect the new pile, but dared not get too close.

Softly spoken paws left deep traces in the soft ground as the thinning girl trotted atop it's surface. Though her presence in these lands was new and unremarkable, it didn't take a genius to work out that these subtle calling cards were faint reminders of the harsh snowfall that had burried these shoots for so long. The meltwater had long since seeped into the soil or evaporated with the arrival of the temperate spring sun yet it didn't stop Azreal from gaining streaks of brown up her legs as she continued to travel up the rise.

She was following the marks left behind by another lupin, not out of any urgency but merely to quell the rising tendrils of curiosity that had begun to infiltrate her mind as a result of discovering new grounds. Friendly and sociable was her expectation of new beings, an imprint developed from her easy life as a puppy, but the yearling had yet to encounter any of the natives so making a judgement now would be like sticking a lable on a plant and calling it a tree. Nevertheless, murky green orbs studied the prints as she moved onwards, in a futile attempt to guage what little information she could.

Maybe it was just beginners luck when the twisted black trunk of a dead tree came into view, an indistinct figure of a wolf below it, because the rusted girl was beginning to have second thoughts about this one sided meeting. Azreal stiffened, her pelt bristling with what could only be described as excitement as her gaze locked o to the creature, quietly observing it's actions but making no further movements towards it.

Whatever had caused this place to burn, it seemed to remain. As Seregryn visited the broken pile of debris she breathed deep, and the air tasted very strange. It was wood-like, as this was a tree, but there was something sour about the smell, something which overpowered everything else. As she rounded upon the pile and drifted too close with her face, her chin brushed it - and was smeared with dark, should she did not notice. After a few minutes of this quiet contemplation and inspection, Seregryn grew bored. She wandered towards a far-flung chunk of the tree and pawed at it, kicking it along and chasing after the rolling piece once it caught the lip of the ridge.

It was then that she saw the brackish figure watching her; the game ended swiftly after that, and her dark head lifted, defiant but also curious, as she tried to get a better view without compromising her pride. To have been snuck upon like this! It riled her, no doubt. The girl who believed herself to be a master sleuth, the perfect spy (although she was trained and she had tested herself time and again, Seregryn was far from a master) - she could not have been caught unawares like this. Not by anyone! She had to accept it though, and did with a surly little chuff, then began pacing along the broken bits of forest in pursuit of the stranger.

The girl moved swiftly to close the distance, and left enough space in between so that she felt safe, but could watch the other soundlessly, ready to leave at a moments notice.