The sight of a running bird across the plains was not so uncommon, with its stilted legs reaching, and tufted head almost bowed. A classic show of predator-versus-prey, with the desperate coyote hot on its heels, at least until the third zag to its zigs, at which point the coyote was out of breath and not fast enough to compensate.
All her effort to learn to hunt within Mereo, meaningless. Out upon the open expanse of this grassland, things were different — difficult, dangerous.
And so Nazli starved.
She watched the horizon for signs of the bird but having lost track of it, and feeling too disoriented from the spurt of energy that she had expended, she stood upon a hill of dry grass and panted openly to the blustering wind, and began to move on.
Let me know if anything needs to be changed! ^^
The young male had not long left the side of his odd acquaintance before he resumed his trek west. A descent of the terrain quickly wore down a diminishing resolve of continuation for the day. A familiar growl wrestling within their stomach forced Wicken to retire lest they give away a chance to nurse the hunger. The spot he chose to rest was the impression of a bison's wallow. The earth was a stark contrast of cool compared to the radiating heat that lingered above the golden grass, and Wicken was appreciative of the cover it provided in an environment that his coat failed him.
The gentleman lay there in respite for a long while before departing quickly as the hooved beasts returned to claim their rightful rolling grounds. They were left in the heat then, a dark wolf on a golden background that provided very few opportunities to settle a growling stomach. Amber eyes were squinted against the dusty gusts as they took in their surroundings one last time. He observed the small creature then. A beautiful mix of coloration against the contrast of the plains.
Wicken was unsure of the interaction with the strangers back being the only view he could observe, but the opportunity was not one he wished to bypass. He knew not where he was, so there was a small, lingering hope that the figure before him might know and remain comfortable enough to divulge the information. Would you happen to know where we are?
A silvery voice reverberated from him as the other had turned to leave. The words were accompanied with a seated position that allowed his large figure to appear less daunting.
It had been weeks since Nazli had seen another person; this was her own doing, as she had fled the lakeside, and Khaba, and the woman whom he was so affixed to. There had been no place for her there — but here, there was little difference! Here she struggled even more! Without her protector and without any of her usual ritual or preparedness, the girl had become something more feral, and thought less and less of herself as she survived.
When there came a voice on the wind, she thought that surely the last of her sanity had broken, and she was creating figments to occupy her lonely heart. She flashed a look over one shoulder and saw there, a shadow! He was poised as a sphinx, with the sun glaring around him in a halo; beautiful, and briefly she was awe-struck.
His question was met with a doe-eyed stare at first, as if she'd truly forgotten her tongue and become like the bestial woman of Greatwater after all - that Zharille, who never spoke but always made things known through teeth.
Blinking, drawing her tongue across her teeth to remind herself it was there after all, Nazli croaked out a meek, No, I — I don't. S-sorry.
The dark doe eyes that Wicken's own were faced with appeared unthreatening in their nature, but the diversion of their eyes was quick and seamless. A practiced ballad in the waltz of the young males dance of conversation. Instead, the dark amber of Wicken's sight focused on the horizon behind the small female figure. The rolling hills of gold expanding out of sight behind her in a textured frame that labelled her the most picturesque object in his peripheral vision. Her voice gave way a multitude of information to him despite her lack of knowledge in relation to their location. His dark ears twitched in acknowledgement. The answer was not what the gentleman had hoped for, but Wicken could make due in the meantime.
That's alright.
Wicken ensured to speak gently. They spoke in such a way to ensure that they would not evoke another apology in their presence. After all, the young wolf should have been the first to apologize for such an intrusion upon another's space. My apologies for encroaching upon your hunt.
He had seen the bird flit away over the horizon with her in pursuit. Wicken had known failure in hunting many times, so he was sure to continue on the conversation without dwelling on the hunt statement.
The grey wolf rose to a standing position with a large head resting even with lanky shoulders. A submissive stance seemingly misplaced on such a large frame as he peered to the direction he had originally been going. This valley holds very little in the realm of small prey for predators such as ourselves. There is a river to the west that might hold more opportunity if you would like another chance.
It was a gentle offer to the smaller canine. I have been through here before.
A last minute add on to assure her that he knew the area. Just not the name.