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+--- Thread: Deepwood Weald Who to follow but my own troubled self (/showthread.php?tid=17406)
Who to follow but my own troubled self - Janai - August 22, 2016
She had awoken from her perch on the cliffside as soon as the sun has risen beyond the rolling skin of the Sea Mother, skirting the thick woodland that bore the strong odour of many. For the first time in her life, she had been travelling away from her beloved ocean; away from the secrets and hidden wonders she withheld, moving inland as her paws followed the gentle breeze ribboning inwards across the crested waters. The tawny wolf was still fresh in her mind yet not for the fondest of reasons; his dislike to the navy depths had flipped a certain switch in the mind of the soldier, however irrational it was.
The strong scent of forest cleared the thoughts from her head and she raised her golden gaze to scan her surroundings; thin, straggly pine trees twisted and twined together in the most horrific of ways. "Missä minä olen?" she breathed, the fur along her spine beginning to rise up as her very bones spoke the language of fear. Yet she was a warrior, a legionary; a little unfamiliarity wouldn't shake her. Besides, Sisko was here. Those thoughts of comfort tumbled round and round her head as she stood silent, senses alive as they sought to find the direction in which she had come from.
RE: Who to follow but my own troubled self - Rosalyn - August 31, 2016
Hope you don't mind me!
After a time, when she had had her fill of the southern shores, she'd once more turned her sights north. It had been her hope she'd fare better in leaving, and perhaps she had - likely if she'd stayed the famine would have killed her - but she was unaware. She hadn't found what she sought in her old stomping grounds; Her old crew was long gone, seemingly scattered to the winds, presumably disbanded.
Unfortunate. But that was the way of things. She stuck around long enough to ensure there were no prospects there, then grudgingly knew what she had to do. So she returned... not to Saltwinter. She imagined the 'queen' of the shore would love the chance to sink her teeth in Rosalyn's neck, and she very much would like to avoid that happening.
No, better to stay well south. The forests provided her enough small game to get some of her strength up, but life as a loner had left her slight and hungry.
She was scavenging that day when she saw the other wolf, a stranger standing oddly stock-still among the thick trees. Rosalyn froze, her breath sucking in as she anticipated attack. After a moment of appraising her, she drew the conclusion that the other was alone, at least at the moment. So maybe she was not to be chased off after all.