especially wanted: dudes who like 'em young. for science?
In her seven-and-a-half months of life, Ivy had seen exactly three places: Broken Antler Fen, Lake Rodney, and Redhawk Caldera. One, two, three. Right in a row. Granted, she only partially counted Lake Rodney because her wayward pack had been in the throes of illness when they stumbled on by, but with a list so small she couldn't exactly afford to be picky. But now that her family had settled in to their new mountainous lives, she felt a bit of exploration was in order.
Naturally, she didn't ask permission to wander. Or really tell her parents where she was going. Or give any indication to anyone that she'd felt the need to roam. But hell, the girl was basically an adult now! Just several weeks out from joining the adult ranks and everything. Eh, they'd never miss her.
It made sense to branch out in the only direction she'd ever headed: Northeast. By noontime Ivy found herself weaving throught the tall grasses of Meadowlark Prarie. When the early June sun hit her back through the constantly-waving lush greenery, she let out a contented sigh and hummed a non-descript tune. She didn't sound nearly as melodious as the territory's namesake songbirds, but who was around to impress? On a day like this all she needed was a song in her heart and a smile on her face.
Set before the whole hardcore -getting pack together thing- on my end
@Ivy . :3
Slade had decided to do more than his usual lust of brooding in the dark trenched of Phantom Hollow, and took a trek through the fields of ripening berries. In the coming hours of duskhood, the Shadow Sire kept an eased pace through the grounds, his aim to hit Haunted Woods around night, as he had a couple of old rogue associates he needed to meet with. With nothing more than silent grace, the King skirted the view of the Blackfeather Woods, a passing and presumably unheard of legend, as the ex Dark Brother made his way to the Praire.
An calm gaze of fire kept unkindled and cold was lightly touching the distinct features of this praire, but they lingered well enough on a form that was both natural and unnatural in shape. Not geological, but biological, living, but not grown, not in the slightest. It was a youth, a misguided body who considered her permission her own, and to cast her will with relaxing into the teetering moments of the day's end.
It would have taken seconds to reach her if the villain tried, but he was nonchalant in his march, calculated but nonchalant.
Eventually, he would reach her, as he did now.
Silken baritones left the lips of the King, the older male pausing his journey and taking a second to enrich himself in conversation.
"Hello. Quite odd for a youth to be so far away from home."