Wolf RPG

Cera had to admit, It was pretty here.

The bloom of seasonal flowers – some she'll admit she hadn't even seen before. Small critters running roundabout between semi-high grass blades, and songbirds singing distant melodies as the sun beamed gently on the meadow. Yes, it was pretty here; but not as pretty as home was.

At home, the flowers were none but shelf decoration for the vast blue sea that lies just beyond the cliffs. Instead of the sound of songbirds were the cries of seagulls – instead of the scent of soil and petals, was the scent of sea salt and brine. It wasn't the prettiest of sounds, it wasn't the most pleasant aromas – but it was still home, nonetheless.

Just thinking about it made the little witch homesick.

Stretching her forelimbs and splayed toes into a stretch, Cera's bodyweight crushed the delicate daisy bed beneath her as she lay Pharoah-style within the meadow. The morning was still young – and with nothing planned for the rest of the day, she hadn't much planned on leaving her little safe spot just yet. For now, she would wait for the sun to rise and the stars to die off…

Vague timeline messing about. the Meadow's not far from his other thread, so we'll make it work <3

This land was vast. Impossibly so. To some, it might be daunting, but to Callan it just was. Even if he had been taken aback by it all, he was still just as lost. It didn't change anything. It didn't fix his lack of memories, and didn't help him figure out where he was, so. It just was.

His current placement seemed to be a well-watered meadow, flowers of all shapes and sorts and colors littering the ground, folding under heavy paws as the bluesteel figure made his way through, his chosen direction at the moment southward.

It seemed that the world found his solitude unacceptable, for in his path lay a chocolate cloaked wolf, laying amongst the flowers as if she were one herself. She might have been for how pretty she was, but Callan did not could not would not notice. Instead, he adjusted his path to skirt around her and and avoid the meeting altogether. If she allowed that to happen remained to be seen.

Her eyelids grew heavier by the minute. Weighed down by what felt like an invisible force, when it was just her body telling her it needed rest.

Ever since entering the teekons, her sleep schedule hadn't been perfect. Back when she had the pack and her mother, she never needed to worry about how long it would take to hunt food while waiting for the crew to come back with a seal kill or piles of fish or crab. Now the girl had to hunt for herself – having exhausted the previous night trying to catch a single squirrel. Only to fail and feed on any berry bush she could find instead.

Cera was a young girl, turning young woman, who hadn't truly realized how spoilt or privileged she was until now – and the thought of letting that squirrel get away still hurt her pride tenfold.

Tired, and still a bit hungry, the little sea witch figured a little nap wouldn't hurt. So she dozed, the world drifting off into a semi-dark blur. A figure, tall and cloaked in midnight, had treaded near her, but it hadn't deterred her desired rest….

A figure…tall…and cloaked in midnight….

Cera's eyes snapped open at once; she was no longer alone in the meadow.

The dame's stilt legs scrambled for balance as she stood and snapped her neck towards the direction of the stranger. The fur of her neck bristled in alarm, and eyes remaining owlish, unblinking, and glued to their magnet. A growl even rumbled from her throat by instinct, but more out of fear and uncertainty than anything else.

For now, she'd only watch in silence….

Ceraphina

Callan

Ceraphina