July 23, 2020, 01:16 PM
✹☾❂
Eleuthera had intended to be on her way home far sooner than this. In fact, she probably should have gone right back to the willows after visiting the empire in the vale, which was essentially in their own backyard. a one or two day trip, tops. At this point, Eleuthera had been gone for the better part of a week and she had no idea what was going on at the court or if they were worried about her lengthy disappearance. A part of her was worried that when she did return, it would be to another empty forest. Another family, gone.
But there was something that Eleuthera had scented on the lake that gave her cause to pursue further exploration. A scent, cascading down from the mountains, that Eleuthera could barely recognize as familiar. It, moreover, procured a sense of curiosity from her — a sense that she might actually fulfill her duty to the Faeries who had taken her in and provided her shelter.
It smelt as if there was more than one pack in this immediate area, too. Considering Orlaith’s advice, Eleuthera went to explore the northern scent before she considered the scent wafting up from the south. Both seemed to be large communities of wolves, capable of making their presence known even from far away, but Orlaith had mentioned a desert, so that is the direction in which she went. After she checked this out, she would decide what to do about the southern pack.
The smell was strongest near the canyon, so Eleuthera dared not stray close. She swept far around the perimeter towards the sunspire, coincidentally the mountain upon which she had been born, and climbed it only about a quarter of the way. Though her elevation afforded her a better look into the canyon itself, she could not actually scry anything within — but that was more to blame on her canid eyesight than it was any lack of their presence. A pack was, with all certainty, living here. But who?
The wind shifted and the hot air blowing up from the canyon hit her hard in the face, filling her lungs with force and causing the answer she sought to rush in. It was Donovan, the silver-tongued devil with whom she had spent an afternoon and a demonstrative fishing lesson. As far as Eleuthera knew, she was more familiar with Donovan and his unique scent that she was with most wolves of the world, so she was certain. They were here, exactly where Orlaith had suspected. Donovan was here, and he was not alone. His group had only grown.
Eleuthera took another deep breath, and when she was filled with the same identity and immediate defensive impulse, she turned and ran to descend the mountain and to locate the pack to the south, delivering the same warning she had thrust onto the shoulders of the Empire: beware of your new neighbor.
But there was something that Eleuthera had scented on the lake that gave her cause to pursue further exploration. A scent, cascading down from the mountains, that Eleuthera could barely recognize as familiar. It, moreover, procured a sense of curiosity from her — a sense that she might actually fulfill her duty to the Faeries who had taken her in and provided her shelter.
It smelt as if there was more than one pack in this immediate area, too. Considering Orlaith’s advice, Eleuthera went to explore the northern scent before she considered the scent wafting up from the south. Both seemed to be large communities of wolves, capable of making their presence known even from far away, but Orlaith had mentioned a desert, so that is the direction in which she went. After she checked this out, she would decide what to do about the southern pack.
The smell was strongest near the canyon, so Eleuthera dared not stray close. She swept far around the perimeter towards the sunspire, coincidentally the mountain upon which she had been born, and climbed it only about a quarter of the way. Though her elevation afforded her a better look into the canyon itself, she could not actually scry anything within — but that was more to blame on her canid eyesight than it was any lack of their presence. A pack was, with all certainty, living here. But who?
The wind shifted and the hot air blowing up from the canyon hit her hard in the face, filling her lungs with force and causing the answer she sought to rush in. It was Donovan, the silver-tongued devil with whom she had spent an afternoon and a demonstrative fishing lesson. As far as Eleuthera knew, she was more familiar with Donovan and his unique scent that she was with most wolves of the world, so she was certain. They were here, exactly where Orlaith had suspected. Donovan was here, and he was not alone. His group had only grown.
Eleuthera took another deep breath, and when she was filled with the same identity and immediate defensive impulse, she turned and ran to descend the mountain and to locate the pack to the south, delivering the same warning she had thrust onto the shoulders of the Empire: beware of your new neighbor.