While the wolves of Brokilon had treated her kindly, it'd never been home - not one she wanted to return to. It was there among the mystical woods that Ciri realised home, for her, could not be discovered in any land that the world had to offer. Instead, she'd found it in the softness of her mother's smile; in the scent of a Summertime breeze as she frolicked with her sister among wildflowers; in the gift of her father's words, shared with her since birth.
It pained her to know that her version of home was something she would no longer find.
Numbed by the ache of her discovery, Ciri turned away from the regrouped remains of Moonspear to pick her way aimlessly through the neighbouring glen. Her cousins had settled there not long before her family's arrival; they too had suffered. The young Ostrega did not weep as she considered the heavy weight she carried in her chest, though she very much wanted to.
She was truly alone, now. She would need to be strong.
Into an unfamiliar forest she wandered, its tree canopy providing shelter from the scorching heat of a high midday sun that bore down on her back. She exhaled shakily and lifted her gaze to look around, unsure where to go from there. To Mahler, to Sagtannet - or Rivenwood as the lioness had been informed when the gargoyle visited last - was her first thought, but she had no idea which territory her father had chosen made his own. The intention had been for Ciri and Elke to join him there with Winter's end, but fate had cruelly driven a wedge between such plans.
The yearling took a moment to squeeze her vivid eyes closed, to steady herself, then carried on moving forward between the foliage with no destination in mind.
She simply had to keep going, fearing that to stop would bring her to her knees.
the native continues to travel, not intending to stay in place for long. her intent was to find her way back to the sunbeam lair, and then to lost creek hollow as well. but shikoba knows that oftentimes, plans will not always go as they should. rather than force a concrete idea, she allows herself to follow where the wind blows her. eventually, she knows she will end up where she is needed to be at the time.
for now, she leaves behind the summit and the raven-haired girl who teaches about stars. it was a lovely time with her. agouti paws stretch across the terrain as she enters a new piece of land that she hasn't explored before. she takes notice of the many burnt trees, only a few remain tall.
she looks around in a concerned manner, wondering how many animals were forced to become spirits due to this carnage. a saddned breath escapes her lips as she touches her nose to a blackened tree stump. the life spirit is gone, she feels no heartbeat within this tree that once stood proudly. she takes caution to step lighter as she travels, not wanting to disturb any places where animals may have been laid to rest after the disaster.
though, before her, she sees something that catches her eye. the scarred female has to rub her eyes against her leg, ensuring that she is seeing something correctly. at first, she thought she was seeing the spirit of a wolf walking towards her, one that is young and killed off too quickly. yet, with a quick recheck, this one is very much so alive, and seemingly troubled. shikoba is no counselor, and is even worse at comforting because she struggles to find her words. yet, she takes a tentative approach to the girl, chuffing as an alert that she is present.
When the chuffed breath of another sounds from close by, ahead of her chosen trail, Ciri pricked her dark ears forward. She was prompt to lift her bright eyes and look upon the creature who'd announced herself: a compact she-wolf made of ash and earthen shades, kissed faintly by warmer hues. Her gaze lingered a moment longer on the large scars that marked her features, and she wondered what sort of beast might've delivered such wounds.
She wondered if she'd deserved it.
Wordless, the swallow paused in her tracks; she was cautious, but a little relieved for the distraction that this encounter was sure to provide. "Hi," came her small greeting, voice wavering with hesitation.
did shikoba scare her? albeit the woman is not the most attractive of the wolves in these wilds, but she isn't downright hideous to cause such hesitation from another. though, shikoba feels a phantom shiver run across her face, each claw mark engraved into her body wavers with unease. ah, that's right. she forgets about her markings.
the greeting seems hesitant, but nonetheless the girl still does give the native a chance. a small smile etches itself onto her lips. "hi" she responds back, taking a step or two closer. her greetings sound normal to the very least. "what girl doing out here?" choppy, yet she gets the point across. perhaps the girl is nothing more than a wisp being blown across the wilds in search for something special. maybe she is on a journey somewhere. a tilt of the head, a small wag of the plume; she is doing her best to be friendly and not scare off the possible friend.
The greeting was returned promptly, and Ciri took note of a smile that curved on the older she-wolf's maw. A corner of her own tugged upward in response, half-hearted - it seemed so wrong to express joy or contentment in any way, considering the trauma of her most recent discovery.
"Nothing," she answered simply, dark ears tilting backward slightly as her bright eyes followed the forward, bold of her most recent acquaintance. The swallow braved some of her own, curious about the scarred stranger, though her approach maintained some uncertainty. "I am... alone, she almost said, and her expression faltered at the thought. She was, more than ever, but she felt unprepared to speak of it.
"It's just me."
It's just me from now on.
usually most tend to have a purpose when they travel, though the young girl is like a wayward soul in search for purpose. a vague answer is provided for a vague question. it is fitting, but does not really answer what shikoba wonders about silently. she is surprised no remark is made for the way she talks, and for that, the native is silently grateful.
"girl looks young" she says "should be with friends or family." shikoba has no right to tell someone what they are and are not, where they are meant to be and where they should avoid. it is just something peculiar, something she notices, something that is strange. had it not been for the tragedy that struck the redstone desert, shikoba would be under her father's wing right now, learning more about what this life has to offer her.
"yet girl alone..." she pauses for a moment, "shikoba alone too." she doesn't want to be alone though. she misses warm embraces from others, she misses playing with puppies who deemed her worthy of their time. she misses her past life. and now what of her? a hollow shell of what she once was, something she still strives to be? she is a disappointment to her former self, to her pheasant tail identity.
"english bad for shikoba. but shikoba see girl not happy. does shikoba... make girl sad?" if it is such a case, the native would make a hasty exit to not trouble the young soul. if not for the language barrier, shikoba would ask what it is that bothers the dark one. something seems off, and not in a terrible way, but in a slight manner of uncomfortableness and even sorrow. a step back from the native, an attempt to give the girl space.
The marred stranger commented on her age, how she should not be on her own, and Ciri felt her chest constrict. She frowned deeply, solemnly, and averted her sunflower gaze to glance away through the surrounding foliage. Her gaze lingered on nothing in particular, for Ciri's focus remained firmly in her attempt to keep herself from falling apart at the seams.
She did not breathe a word of response, so reluctant she was to let this unknown wolfess see her break. It was important to her to mask any suggestion of suffering, so after a quiet moment the swallow inhaled deep and lifted her crown. Tilting her muzzle upward, her dark ears fluttered and she lashed her feathered tail; "Shikoba," she repeated, "is that your name?" A pause, to allow room for confirmation, "mine's Ciri."
She carried on, asked a strange question she hadn't expected, and an ear fluttered backward. "No," the young Ostrega blurted, a defensive edge to her tone. Ciri wasn't prepared to share her sorrows with Shikoba, but he last thing she needed was to carry the guilt of her thinking she was responsible, "I'm fine, I... everything will be okay."
she is hesitant to answer to the older woman; shikoba's father would take it as disrespect to not be able to promptly answer. but thankfully for ciri, shikoba is not a reflection of her parents. she can only be herself.
when asked to clarify her name, the scarred agouti nods her head. she is thankful that a name is given to her to help identify the younger girl, ciri. it's pretty, different as well. reflects all the interesting names she had learned while she spent her time in these wilds. but perhaps shikoba is the one with a weird name, she hasn't thought of that aspect before.
the defensiveness of the girl certainly caught the native off-guard, but she puts it past herself. however, shikoba is not just blunt, she is also persistent. the scars on her body are a constant reminder of her persevering nature. she blinks at the girl, eyebrows furling as she takes a step forward. her tone becomes a little more serious; her word choice slow but full of intent.
"eyes don't lie, ciri." shikoba is not an empath to the greatest degree, but she has known what it is like to withhold something from others in the fear of bursting open. shikoba is also aware of the way the girl is acting, flighty like a bird, defensive when asked to clarify. the pause in her answer, unsureness. "ciri say one thing but... eyes say different." perhaps shikoba should not prod the girl if she does not want to spill; perhaps she will illicit another defensive response from the girl, and then shikoba will have to decide where to go from there.
"lies no help ciri if upset."
Ciri had not expected Shikoba to be so persistent, if anything she thought the earthen she-wolf would take her dismissal at face value. Instead she made to scrutinise her: "eyes don't lie, Ciri."
The young Ostrega twitched her tapered tail-tip, her anxiety budding. She blinked, feeling frustration rise in her gullet. Why was it that wolves were so insistent on sticking their nose into the business of others? Why did so many feel the need to push and push, when their input hadn't been requested?
Ciri grit her teeth together, feeling the want to snap at her. It would be childish, she knew, and she fully believed she would cry - a weakness she was unwilling to show. The raven-furred girl stifled the beginnings of her anger. "Please," she ground out, "don't." Don't make me say it.
it seems both women have encountered a slight stalemate with each other, both wanting to preserve the honor they had; one is to find out the truth, one is to guard what troubles her mind. considering the strained answer, shikoba must make a choice. she either gets the answer she wants and ruins what little she has built up with ciri, or she lets the girl fester and do as she wishes.
for once, shikoba allows her opponent to win. she does not push anymore.
the older woman sighs and turns her gaze away from the girl in a seemingly disappointed manner, her entire body turns and faces away. shikoba takes a step forward and looks back towards ciri, scars scrunching up as she speaks. "when old like shikoba, ciri learn why talking helps."
there are many routes the woman could take in order to get ciri to open up. however, shikoba is not fluent, nor a very good charmer. she could use open threats considering her mercenary streak, but violence isn't something she is fond of using against wolves who are just troubled, not bad. trying to converse and change the topic would be easy, like offering a secret of hers to ciri in order to get one back. but shikoba can't follow doing such tedious tasks. if the girl does not want to open to her, then that is that.
shikoba pushes off to leave, as she is most likely no longer wanted as company. unless ciri says something otherwise, shikoba's next destination is further north.
She blinked, and felt herself deflate a little at Shikoba's response. The older she-wolf exhaled a sigh and turned her face away, a gesture that Ciri was swift to interpret as disappointment. Her inner child stifled a whimper; it was easier to cope with an adult's anger than to be the source of their dissatisfaction.
The swallow didn't like the way she looked down on her, either. Her brow furrowed above sunflower eyes that glowered back, and the words to follow did nothing to soothe her frayed nerves. Ciri knew that the statement was supposed to be one of wisdom, but she hadn't asked for it. It bothered her to feel as though she might be regarded as ungrateful for her unwillingness to share her greatest tragedies with a stranger.
So she let her go. She watched quietly, stiffly, as the wayfarer made her way off. Ciri's attention diverted to her own path when Shikoba was gone from her line of sight, and carried on.