Wolf RPG

Full Version: 绿化
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it is time to get to work, chun thinks while she climbs a shattered cliff. the sky is cherry blossom pink where rìzhào's sun sits below the horizon, smudging to indigo and navy as the canvas climbs. dawn is yet to arrive but the little peach has always been an early riser. beyond the sun's reach the shining scales of infinite dragons still glimmer. chun tao reflects a tick on the brightest of the stars.

she shakes her head and resumes her climb, and when she reaches the top she begins hunting among the redwood trees for herbs. there isn't much to be found in winter, chun tao knows this, but she searches nevertheless. her family must not want for treatment for anything that ails them in the coming days. she roots around in the snow, hopeful there's something useful beneath it.
a wanderer of the coast; she sought what would never be.. be away from the water. ruò thought she saw something, a familiar cousin, and out of curosity followed the foe up a cliff, and onto the land. she did not enjoy the height of this place, nor' how unfriendly it was to the sea. where was the water, the streams, the waves? disgruntled, but she continued.

she could've sworn a cousin of some-sort went up here. while ruò wasn't a sociable wolf, she knew of everyone, even if they did not know of her. mistaking someone as family was something she was sure wouldn't happen.
chun tao's search yields nothing but moss caked with snow and stiff to the touch. she hovers her nose over it and sniffs for signs of mold or contamination, then lowers lips to pluck up a cluster. moss is better than nothing. it's good when pressed against swelling and open wounds. it's good for hydrating sick patients and it's best for cleaning punctured skin. chun tao wishes she could find something more substantial but she's grateful for this.

turning brings a previously unseen spectator into view. chun tao lifts her head with the moss still pinched between her incisors and cants one ear. she doesn't recognize ruò. she's heard of her distant cousins of the wang family but she hasn't spent a lot of time with them, and ruò is the most reclusive of them all. it's the pattern of her fur, light gray with a familiar sweep of dark gray from head to tail, that makes chun tao put down her bundle of moss and guess, "表弟?"
another distant cousin like the one she met days before, but this one seemed more odd in ruò's eyes, as she did not gather the seashells or seaweed, but moss from the cliff. she wondered why this cousin was up here rather then down, "江春桃." and spoke her name.

as the siren was not a medic, she was not sure what the use of that moss was, and stared at it with curious blues.