Wolf RPG

Lately, Brecheliant had not felt the same. Not since the passing of her father. Her whole world was turned upside down. His loss affected not only her, but Ponyboy, Boris, her mom and nearly everyone else in the pack. These were unsettled times, where the future ahead was blurry at best.

As much as she loved her home and had promised never to abandon it, the growing teenager could not resist the pull to strike out. To stretch her legs and get away. Just to put some distance between herself and the caldera, as if doing so would clear her mind. Temporarily erasing all of her negativity.

But nothing was ever solved by running away from your problems. Bronte wasn't thinking like that as she moved north, picking her way the thick forest. In the spring and summer it would be alive with greenery. Now, as winter was around the corner, it was barren. 

At least it was easier to see. No less difficult to navigate. Burrs snagged at her fur, debris of spindly twigs and leaves making themselves at home. Even the thorns seemed to have it out for her. Stumbling, she nearly tripped. Cussing under her breath as for the umpteenth time, she reached to pull another offender out between her toes.

There was a girl in Brecheliant, one who bore a striking resemblance to @Ponyboy. Anathema had watched her from afar once or twice, but didn't dare approach. She was still healing, and the aftermath of her head injury had left her with an ugly scar that had not yet been hidden by slowly-regrowing fur, leaving her even more shy and reclusive than she'd been prior. But her curiosity could not be stifled forever.

When she found the girl's trail leading out of the territory, Ana followed at a distance. Her ears were pulled forward, body kept low to the ground in a half-hearted attempt at stealth. There were sounds of twigs snapping, bushes rustling, an odd thumping like someone tripping — and then the faint sound of muttered curses. Ana's ears twitched.

She announced herself with a series of rapidfire clicks, slipping through the undergrowth with far more grace than the other girl. Seaglass eyes fixed on her unblinkingly, quizzical, and after a moment Ana tilted her head. What are you doing? Are you okay? But the words wouldn't come to her, and so she only regarded the girl in questioning silence.

A clicking noise got her attention. Turning part way around, her amber like eyes found that of seaglass. An inquisitive girl around her age. She recognized her by the extra scent often around Ponyboy and by the rare flashes of fur seen in Brecheliant.

She had been wanting to meet Anathema. But now? She wasn't so sure. Not that she had lost interest, but because of the timing. Bronte was going through a turbulent phase of her life right now. Every day was a struggle to cope with the loss of Bronco.

With a loose swish of her tail, she invited the other closer. Tried for a small smile, but failed miserably. "Was wondering when we would get to meet." She spat out the thorn between her teeth, cringing at the memory of it in her skin. The underlying sadness in her eyes was ever present. "Careful. Seems to be a lot of those buggers up this way."

It was odd to be acknowledged. Ana hid herself so that the others would not perceive her, and yet they had, and did. They knew her and knew she lived among them, and knew too that she was a strange and solitary creature. This was more than she'd ever wanted them to know about her.

She sniffed the air for any hint of blood and found none. The girl seemed sad, but Ana could not decipher the reason for it. She stepped closer wordlessly, still sniffing her. No wounds. No sickness. Ana reached out to press her nose into the girl's fur now for a closer inspection, searching her all over for a physical source to the sorrow she sensed.

The girl, whose name was lost to her, drifted near. Quite close in fact. As she did, the Blackthorn's eye watched the ground for any thorns or burrs that might be out to get that set of young paws. She was quickly distracted by the coolness of a nose against her blonde fur.

Bronte blinked in surprise, but put up with the inspection calmly. In turn, she skimmed over a shoulder, finding lasting traces of Ponyboy's scent there. "Uhh...um, hey, your eyes and fur are real pretty." She complimented the other girl. Her tail even wagged, slightly. Her Blackthorn line with their signature dorsal stripe was a dime a dozen to her.

Pretty. No one had ever called her that before. Anathema blinked. She was silent for a few moments, save the series of rapid clicks that always gave away her anxiety.

Th... thanks. Yours are too, She really thought so. The girl was beautiful in the same way Ponyboy was; something she envied, and now all her feelings were thrown into chaos. Ana wasn't sure what to think. Was she really pretty?

Then why did nobody love her?

"Thanks." She returned, with a slight smile. "Hey, you smell a bit like my brother, Ponyboy. Do you two know each other?"

She was quizzical. Not jealous or possessive. "I'm his sister, Bronte."