Wolf RPG

Lost. 

The aging wolf couldnt remember back far enough to when she had felt such unease, had felt such loneliness. Even when her mate had gone, even when her only surviving child had been sacrificed, the crone had not felt such an utter hopelessness as she had felt now. 

The home which she had lived nearly all her life had been destroyed. Everyone she knew having been gone to her. Even her God, now, was gone. 

Yet despite the wear and tear of time, the wolf pressed on, determined to reunite herself with her family. It would be a hard journey. A long journey. But a necessary one if she were to survive, if she were to ensure her family survived. 

So through the heavy rains she pressed on, her path leading her to the foothills of a great mountain chain stretching out northward as far as she could see. Odessa knew herself better enough then to try to scale them though was lucky enough this part here held much gentler, green rolling slopes. And so began searching for a path through.

while there was a lull in the heavy rains, praimfaya’d made her way across the short distance, past sawtooth spire — noting it is absent sagtannet — before she heads down …and makes it near the lower reaches of little goat mountain just before the rains start up again, cascading from the heavens; biblical divine punishment. it makes the small stretch of path even more treacherous: the rock face slick but she doesn’t worry as she leaps down onto solid earth. the overwatered ground is muddy and her paws sink into it with an unattractive squelching noise, splattering upon her silverlit pelage like gore from a kill.

praimfaya cringes and steps forward onto less muddy ground ( though such a thing seems harder and harder to avoid ).

frostbound gaze finds the older woman, having failed to notice her at first. it’s hard to discern scents over the stench of damp earth and watered decay but praimfaya lifts herself up with caution all the same. hei, she calls out in greeting over the symphony of rainfall.

Warned down, hot, the woman leans upon a tree and coughs and she thinks for a moment smoke exits her lungs. Smoke from the fires which had burned down her home, smoke which had plagued her lungs as she struggled to insure everyone made it out before she did so herself. 

But it is the steam, steam of her hot breath in the misty foothills of the mountains. Whilst catching her breath, another's voice causes her ears to perk, graying muzzle lifting and there before her was a ghost, a pale wraith of a woman, with darkness around her eyes which were eerily pale. Cursed. 

Odessa quivers, though whether it was at the sudden sight of the woman or the rains reaching her bones, she was not certain. Hello young girl, she spoke, fighting a smile. It was obvious she was trying to be polite, she often was, though she was horribly tired and unwell. Could you tell me the name of this land?

hello young girl, praimfaya fights to keep the cringe off her face; a physical effort. she knows that she is, by definition, ‘young’ but she still has a deep seated reaction to it all the same. probably because the ridicule she’s suffered as a horrendously young commander. in the end, she was victorious but she had to lose roangeda to get there. in the end, praimfaya says nothing. she simply blinks frostbound gaze that rakes over the older woman again; slower. these are the sunspire mountains. praimfaya introduces the mountainrange as a whole with a sweeping gesture of her scarred muzzle, unsure, specifically what territory they reside in. she hadn’t taken it upon herself to learn all the territories within the sunspire: only the ones that held some semblance of importance to her. arrow lake. sawtooth spire. redsand canyon.

you’re not from around here? she partially inquires and partially assumes.

A hard blink, eyes trailing her up and down again. Odessa was uncomfortable of course by this, being stared down not only by a complete stranger by a woman of her...caliber no less. Odessa doesn't bother to correct her rudeness, just as the young one doesnt bother commenting on the 'young girl' bit she didnt like. Things seemed civil, for now, and Odessa desperately needing to find her barings wanted it to remain that way. 

As the pale girl's scarred muzzle lifts to present the chain of mountain range, the old woman odds. Brightly yellowed eyes looking over the cliffs, from smaller rolling hills here and to some more towering rocks, topped with white at their peaks. 

Not at all. She admits, turning back to the scarred woman. The curse of her hard life shown over her coat, marred. The High Elk had not blessed her livelihood and likely never would. Just made my way from the plains just there. She gestures to the southeast. My home, you see, was burned. Ironic that I made it to such waterlogged lands. She couldnt help the bit of chuckle and shake of her muzzle.

not at all.

the words come as no real surprise to praimfaya whom assumed as much. though it was true that many of them didn’t know all the territory names ( as she was unaware what territory they currently stood on ) not knowing the names of the region marked a wolf as newcomer.

frostbound gaze follows the direction in which the older woman gestures and praimfaya offers a noncommittal noise with a small nod of her head in understanding. there was a twist of sympathy in praimfaya’s expression as the woman admits that her home was burned. i’m sorry. and she was apologetic that the woman had lost her home. the commander didn’t have to know her to be able to be empathetic.

words of encouragement — that perhaps coming here meant that things were going to look up for her — float to the tip of praimfaya’s tongue but she bites them back; if only for the sake of not wanting to appear insensitive. no doubt it was more than just a home the woman lost.

i’m praimfaya. i live in this region, a few territories from here. but she doesn’t give their name or direction. in truth, the last thing she wants to do was recruit any wolves to the saints. not when her goal was to destroy them from the inside out.

And lost, she had and the pale woman was right to think that she had lost more then just the forest. Her family was in tatters, scrambled and she was not certain all who had survived and who had not. A number of souls, be it her own or not, would not survive the fire's wrath. Though also, it was her very God she had lost, the essence of what made Odessa, Odessa. She could only hope that the High Elk had not abandoned them, that they would find him again and be led to a new home. Maybe, a better home. 

Odessa Deorwine, She introduces with a delicate dip downward of her graying muzzle. Her head lifts, yellow eyes moving over the grasses mountain slopes of the goat's land. A soft frown, she turns back to the accursed. I should probably get on my way then, Praimfaya. These old bones are cold in this weather. And though the girl had been polite, Odessa had no intention of standing out in this pouring weather longer then needed. Company or not. The pale girl was not one of her own and unless she had anything else to offer Odessa, then she would move on.

an introduction; a closure of conversation. praimfaya offers a small nod of her head and says nothing to keep the woman in her company. the rain was unpleasant, even for praimfaya, young as she was. fair travels. she offers to the older woman's retreating form. from there, the silverlit commander waits until the woman is out of sight — a warrior habit, surely — before she continues on her way; acknowledging that soon she should be thinking about looping back to the canyon.