The wolfdog had found himself fully immersed in the life of the wilds. With his sister at his side, the Tervuren felt as though he could accomplish anything. Already, he had searched a majority of the shoreline in hopes of finding a secret that he had not yet uncovered. There were baubles and knick knacks that had been washed ashore by the quiet waves; small rocks and shiny trinkets that the willow had plucked out of the sands and taken back to their temporary home. He had made a small hole where he had tossed all of the things that others would have deemed useless. The halfling had found himself completely enthralled with the surrounding area, and so he did not quite notice the markings of blood and the scents that lingered on the borders of the bay.
Trailing across the sands, the wolfdog noted the sweet scents of fish that lingered underground. There were caches there with food inside. He lowered his dark nose toward the earth and sniffed deeply, tail wavering just slightly behind his patchwork frame. There were a few holes scattered about, covered by seaweed to house the scent of the food underneath. The willowy boy wondered if he had mistakenly traipsed into pack land without realizing it, but there had been no-one there to stop him. So, his fiery gaze sought the shoreline and he – with bounding leaps – darted toward the water.
It met his frame with a quiet slap and he felt the cold liquid sink into his fur and touch his chest. The ocean was beautiful as it stretched on for ages – further than the wolfdog would ever have been able to travel in his life. Amoxtli was certain that there were stories housed in the depths of the waves that no one had ever heard before, and that was a tantalizing thought for a collector of tales. Wading further out into the waters, the Corten boy lifted his head and drew in the brine smell that clung to the air. There were definitely others there who had made the bay their home, but he did not see them at the time and thought himself to be safe in the arms of the sea.
She'd been excited, at first. She'd thought her Shadow had come to her after all, and would join her there on the glittering bay; it would be good to have a friend she could call an equal. Sy came close, but she knew he wasn't entirely comfortable around her just yet. In Shadow, she'd found a comfort she'd been missing since her early days, ensconsed close against her mother's teat, with Buck huddle up against her side. Those had been warm days, full of touch and love, and she hadn't realized quite how much she missed it until experiencing what Shadow had freely given.
But the creature was no Shadow - it could not be. If she were to name him on the same curve she'd named Shadow, she would have to call him Sunset.
And Sunset was in her home. Digging through her pantry, romping through her waves. Soiling the land that she had to bless, that Skellige had entrusted to her. A quiet growl rose up from the scrappy female, and she lowered herself further into the pampas as if to make up for the noise. Should I call for Skellige, or should I confront him myself?
She appraised the male a moment longer before deciding that she liked her odd. I must do my duty to defend our lands, she told herself, slipping out of the cover of the grass and stalking toward the water.
"What are you doing here?" she called, making herself heard over the roar of the waves. Her usual 'hail' was forgone - she may well wish this stranger harm, in the end, and she did not want to mislead him.
The willowy boy could not help but to imagine how much fun his sister would have in the waters of the bay. It was a beautiful location, cornered by stone sentinels on either side and a beautiful twisting forest that was neatly tucked into the corner of the territory. The wolfdog could not have thought there to be another area like it on the shore, and he had done a fair bit of wandering since his arrival in the wilds. Seelie had managed to go and return with the scent of many unfamiliar things on her pelt; scents that Oxtli had roamed over with his nose, looking curiously into the blue of her gaze. What the wolfdogs did on their own time always brought questioning looks from the other.
Feeling the lap of the waves against him had set him in a wonderful mood, and the halfling splashed about with the length of his fur tossing droplets into the sky. There was little to care about, until an agitated sound came around from behind him, and the Corten boy craned his skull around to face a bristling little figure on the shore who was calling for him, asking him a question that he could not answer. Fear became hinged to him like the tossing of a mighty wave, and he tucked his tail tightly against his rear, flattening the length of his ears to his skull.
Trying to keep his head as low to the earth as he possibly could, the Tervuren made his way out of the water and stumbled back onto the sands. There, he lowered his head further to the ground and attempted to let out a raspy whine from the back of his throat. His fire-filled gaze was apologetic and fearful of this wolf who had the power to wrangle him into the sands and punish him greatly for… whatever it was he had done. Amoxtli was confused, and he wanted desperately for his dark sister to appear at his side and gaze happily into the eyes of this female to draw away the anger and confusion. But Coelacanth was not there, and he was forced to face his actions on his own.
Wiggling forward, the wolfdog nuzzled gently underneath the girl’s chin with his cold nose, and whined once more at her. His voice was no more than a wheeze in the back of his throat, but that did not mean he wouldn’t try. Amoxtli would never do such a thing on purpose. Wide eyes peered at her as if he were asking the terrifying woman, ’what will you do with me now?’
The creature - a mute, like her Shadow - approached with the same desperate friendliness as his female likeness, and in him, Doe saw her own image as if from miles away. She was always cowering, it seemed, but not here. Before this creature, she stood strong and unyeilding, a delicate balance between righteous anger and wrath.
I should kill him for tresspassing, whispered a voice rather more poisonous than she was used to. The idea was quickly discounted - Doctors help people.
But the male was prostrating before her, as strange and beautiful as the sister Doe could smell in his fur. The rangey female felt a sudden, violent need to possess this creature, to have the same power over him that so many had over her. How many times had she willingly given the power that this creature now offered her? I am strong enough to fight them. I am strong enough to lead. And she was strong enough to dominate this cat-wolf before her; he had already given himself away and could not possibly overpower her. Perish the thought! Doe stood before him, strong as Riverbone had been to her -
Riverbone would have made him welcome.
Memories of his kindness flooded her, like a wave of ocean water over her head. Riverbone would have been kind to him. And Skellige - though I have pledged myself to him, he has honored me.
"Get up," she said to the cat-wolf, bumping her nose against his. "There is a black female like you - she must be your sister. Is she well?" she asked hopefully, her cruel ambitions slowly fading. The shewolf was left with a feeling of loss, and a pit of sadness welled up within her as she thought of all that she wanted, all that she would never have, and what she might still become. I must be very careful with myself. I must be as kind as I am able, and humble myself before those that invoke these feelings in me.
The inner struggle of the she-wolf was not lost on the mute. His eyes were wide and fearful as he gazed upwards into the sharp citrine of her own vision. It seemed that she, as she stood over his smaller frame, was battling something within her, but the Tervuren had no means of helping her with this struggle. He was a creature who had been forged from nothing but kindness and simplicity. His life had revolved around the companionship of only one other, and this was his greatest fear in that moment. With the vicious wolf who stood over his trembling frame, debating internally whether or not do kill him or severely punish him for having trespassed, Amoxtli could only think of the inky pelt of his sibling and how much he wished she were there to make all of the bad go away.
The Tervuren could feel his legs quiver at the sight of this wolf, and though he had met others on his short treks across the wilds, he had never felt quite so frightened before. The others had been kindly to him, and had allowed for his lack of words to be nothing more than an afterthought in their conversations. The ginger-dabbled boy could not understand why this wolf was behaving so cruelly or why she seemed adamant about keeping herself towering over him like a fanged mountain.
When at last she seemed to speak, the Corten felt a sense of ease creep over him. This wolf knew Seelie! Wiggling his tail in response, the halfling bobbed his head once in response to this female with canary-colored eyes. Though she had bent down to touch his nose and had wished for him to rise, Amoxtli was ever timid as he raised his head upward to meet her. There was a gratefulness there, and the sheepdog extended his muzzle forward in a gesture of thanks, hoping to nuzzle the cold dark of his nose into the crook of her neck. She was a lovely creature for allowing him to live; she was a beautiful being. And she knew his sister! Nothing filled him with more delight than this information.
Flicking his tail back and forth in rapid motion, the Tervuren looked on her with wonderment, hoping to see what she would do next. Certainly if this female had spent time with Coelacanth, she could not have been all that frightening. There was a part of him that remembered the sharp dance of her gaze, and he felt himself shake once more.
The cat-wolf was a pleasant creature, just as her Shadow had been. Doe found herself amused with his submission rather than pleased with it, which was a welcome turn from her earlier attitude. Her tail twitched tolerantly as he nuzzled her, and she licked the cat-wolf's black face in turn - with any luck, he would see her friend before the scent wore off of him. It would be good to send word to her Shadow, however little it might be.
"She came to me in the night, and we sang together under a waterfall," she told the wiggling creature, understanding his excitement at his fellow's mention. "I was not well at the time, and I wish I had stayed longer - she was lovely, but I fear I turned her away."
The words tasted bitter on her tongue, but they would go no further than Sunset, she realized. "I'm crazy, you see," she boldly explained. "I thought she was my shadow - not even a living creature. And I was happy to have her there, but then I realized she was real, and I was afraid of what that could mean for me..."
She looked away from the cat-wolf, shaking her head. "Give her my love. And you - you cannot be here without the Leviathan's blessing. He is a kind and generous leader, and I will call for him, if you wish. But I will have to send you away if you do not."