The waif is reluctant to leave the bear's side. Evergreen is an anchor of safety and protection, adrift as she is in a world once known that has long become foreign. He is the only fixture of familiarity in her uncertain life but draw from him she does, daring to drift west in the wee blue hours of dawn. Some hidden part of her is embarrassed of the vulnerable connection she holds with the grizzly male, desiring to prove herself independent and unreliant upon him though she promises silently not to wander too far.
A softened world awaits, harsh lines blurred and the landscape made smooth by a shroud of fog. The sea of grass parts minutely, allowing the ghost passage.
Her dark gaze lifted and lighted upon the assemblage of warmed pools as she crested a gentle knoll; her inky nose lifted, nostrils flaring and lips parting as she scented the air instinctively for others.
Seemingly alone for the moment, what was left of Liri descended carefully - pale form wavering as she padded over the magma-warmed shale to hover betwixt two hot springs.
The sulfuric odor rising from the waters wrinkled the pale folds of her muzzle in disfavor but it was the heat that drew her cautiously into the embrace of a nearby pool.
The fae relaxed into the warmth, sighing softly as it worked over sore muscles and injured nooks of her battered body.
Being vague! Also assuming that they already know of one another.
To be both vague and frank, a lot had happened. Decisions needed to be made and timelines needed to be met. The concept of responsibility was fairly new to Dulce; she'd begun to think that maybe, she'd taken on too much. It felt as though she might crack under the pressure and leave, preferably at the break of day so that no one was around to stop her.
Dulce didn't think that that sounded like something she would do, but that didn't mean that it wasn't. The strong odor of the hot springs had done an adequate job of keeping her away; she wondered how anyone could stand it long enough to get any benefit from going. Seeing the nameless blanchard make her way over did serve as some inspiration, however, drawing Dulce in only a few moments behind her.
Sorry to intrude
, she whispered, scrunching up her nose as she found her own seat some pools away.
She does not stir from the comfort of the heated pool though one pale aud twitches back to catch the soft tread of her approach. The brassy doe creeps into her vision, recognized by the faint onyx dimple upon her cheek. Her honey eyes are tight with apology as the polar woman watches her curiously, ears rising to catch her soft words.
"Is alright," the ghost uttered, umber orbs dropping to the pool in an attempt to make the woman feel at ease - ears curling against her skull nonthreateningly.
"Who're you?" The fae asked a moment later, peering at the southron with owlish eyes. Her desert pelt smelt faintly of Evergreen and the northron had seen the woman about the campsite. Still, her presence in the healer's life was as mysterious as the bear's - she could not recall how she knew either of them.
It was hard to tell exactly what had led up to Dulce's joining of this bandwagon. Even more difficult was trying to say exactly what this bandwagon was, beyond a mixed up group of (sorta) loners. I'm Dulce
, she replied, noting that they hadn't had a chance to make formal introductions yet. She waited a moment, expecting the blanchard to respond with a name of her own.
There was a moment of silence, in which the stench of rotten eggs reached its peak. Dulce used one wet paw to cover her snout, giggling, It smells.
"A pleasure it is to have made your acquaintance, miss Dulce," the northron lilted kindly, damp pale crown canting in a vague nod. A silence swelled between them and she sensed that the southerner awaited a title in return to label the healer with. "You may call me whatever you wish; I have no recollection of what my name might have been before," she explained softly in embarassed tones of admission.
"It's the sulfur," she whispered, almost to herself - a furrow of confusion wrinkled her features into perplexion, dark gaze sweeping the surrounding steppes.
These very lands had been fodder for the herd her Plateau wolves had fed on, these springs her hunting grounds. They were familiar, her paws found hidden trails as if by muscle memory and her nose knew the cause of the hot springs' stench yet, her amnesia would not let her recall the source of her intuition.
It was difficult to discern what exactly the blanchard meant; Dulce thought it strange that one might forget their own name, though she wasn't quick to judge. They'd only just met each other and such a young relationship was not one that she wanted to spoil with intrusive curiousity. That must be hard
, she sighed, unsure of what to say next, I'll have to imagine a name.
The next sentence came as a whisper, only just soft enough for Dulce to hear but not understand. Sulfur was a word that she hadn't yet come across (understandably). Azufre
, she replied, cautious eyes peering over at Olvida, We had some at home.
The memory of home was faint, but her recollection of the odor was clear as day.
"I do not relish it," the ghost answered in agreement. This abyss within where her past should have been, where she should have been - the confusion and frustration that abounded. "But there are worse things." Her skin was a testament to that.
"What was your home like?" The polar woman asked quietly then, curiosity apparent as she turned whiskey eyes on Dulce once more.
What could have been worse than that? Not only had it seemed that Olvida had forgotten her home, her friends (who, as Evergreen had once mentioned, were quite important), but she'd forgotten who she was down to her own name. Dulce wondered if it might be worse to be dead, but then she thought that this might be the same. Of course, these were inside thoughts, and if Olvida didn't want to talk about it, then it wasn't Dulce's place either.
Speaking of things that no one wanted to talk about... I don't remember a lot
, she said, momentarily looking away from the pale face of her companion, It was dry and hot, and we didn't talk like this.
Toward the second half of her sentence, Dulce seemed to be given a spark of newfound energy. It was different, I guess.
"Oh," she murmured, a glint of concern shining in her dark eyes as Dulce looked away. Her head dipped minutely, gaze finding the pink serrations that curled over her skin like ragged tattoos. Perhaps it was best they both leave the past unspoken - it was obviously a source of pain for both women.
"May the River become a sanctuary to you, then," the waif hoped aloud, offering a half-smile of extended camaraderie. "Have you any inkling of a trade that you might take up?" She asked after a moment - both to continue the conversation and change the subject.
Sanctuary. Dulce thought back to the sanctuary she'd seen on her journey through the Wilds. The idea had seemed so silly then. Probably, eh, explorer
, she nodded, choosing not to dwell on her tendency to judge, I don't know what else.
There weren't many things aside from scouting that she was particularly interested (or experienced) in.
She thought to ask Olvida the same, but stopped to wonder if the amnesiac would even remember. Do you know?
Dulce asked, wondering if different phrasing might make the question less potentially offensive.
A memory surged forward accompanied by a flash of pain, snippets of a woman bedecked in silver - a sister, a ranger, a friend. It vanished as quickly as it came, leaving only emptiness and frustration in its place. The northron forced herself to focus on the words spilling from Dulce's lips, filing the incident away for future examination.
"I was a healer before," she answered, one of the few things she could state with certainty. There was too much medical lore bouncing around her skull for there to be any other explanation. "A hunter too. Those things remain at least," she smiled wistfully.
"I could teach you, if you'd like. Mayhaps they will not suit you as trades but it might be good to know some simple healing," she offered earnestly.
Healing required a basic knowledge of plants that Dulce never seemed to grasp. Were she able to, she might have considered picking up the trade much earlier in life. Okay
, she replied with a smile, figuring that it was never too late to try. What can I give you in return?
Scouting was fairly self-explanatory and thus far, she didn’t have many other skills. It simply felt better knowing that they’d be cut even.
The rancid scent of the pool began to creep back up on Dulce, though with a strength that she didn’t think she could ignore. Giving an apologetic laugh, she crept out from where she sat and shook her fur mostly free of any remaining water. I should go now, but I’ll see you around.
Dulce waited for Olvida’s reply before trotting back to the territory.
"I'd like to come with you sometime on your travels, if you wouldn't mind," she replied readily, tacking on the last somewhat hastily - she might only slow Dulce down with her missing leg.
"The outside world is unfamiliar to me now and I wish to remedy that," she explained, perhaps unnecessarily.
"See you," she called softly, offering a last smile as the woman departed.
The waif would linger for a spell, soaking her weary muscles and alleviating her aches before making her own return to the riverside.