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+--- Thread: Jade Fern Grove gonna spend the rest of my life (/showthread.php?tid=45724)
gonna spend the rest of my life - Necahual - December 14, 2020
AW (@Dægmar you can also join this one if you'd like but it is dated after her previous thread)
the woods were suspended in the hushed stillness of winter, just as the cuesta had been. a frozen mausoleum of bare limbs and frosted tree trunks echoing of the landscape's once abundant greenery and the life it had sustained.
a cluster of scent trails overlapped the unclaimed territories she'd wandered through, leading her to the presumption that a group must reside nearby. such a notion made her wary of hunting on this land, for fear of being intercepted by a territorial and aggressive pack wolf.
still, as the sun crept ceaselessly towards its zenith and the temperature peaked, the angry snarling of her ravenous stomach could be ignored no longer. midday found her creeping along the muddy banks of a shallow stream, cold muck oozing between her toes and splattering up to her knees. in the trees, the occasional cry of a starving songbird pierced the air.
it was cold, biting into her skin with sharp prickles, but no colder than the trickling water she splashed into. shivering lightly, the midwife inched along the slippery stones of the creekbed.
she treaded water slowly upstream, concentrated on not splashing the waters too much or slipping and accidentally submerging herself in the icy water.
by some stroke of luck, the stream was still home to a few fish even in the midst of the cold season. it took several long moments of patience and intense focus to pounce on a fish and pin it to the rocky bottom.
amidst the panicked flapping and the clouds of substrate that stirred in the grey water, aerin's jaws flashed and snapped amongst the flying droplets until the scaly creature merely twitched under her paws.
gathering up her catch, the gypsy emerged half-drenched with a small trout clasped in her pallid maw. she curled upon a rock in the faint sunlight, brushing her paws with powdery snow to protect them from freezing and becoming lame.
moonstones flickered about nevously as she tucked into her meal, hoping she was close enough to the boundaries of the grove to go unbothered and unnoticed. she ate hastily, as if still running from a threat or she needed to keep moving as soon as possible.
RE: gonna spend the rest of my life - Godbrand - December 23, 2020
Sniffing, Bran would wander after the scent of fish. It was not uncommon for him to catch them if he needed to eat - surely they were best served for those desperate enough. He had lived a bit by the coast in another realm, the grey rolling waves and clouds a constant friend.
But this, during his scouting, was revealed to be a valley of sorts. It was not very far from the coast from what he could tell, or perhaps he was confused and smelling scents he thought would comfort him. It was a few days after he entered the Teekons and he was a bit dazed.
So he sought the comfort of words and new faces. It was here that Bran saw the woman, small and delicate looking, munching on a fish. He approached from behind because that was the direction, yet the man veered to the side to allow her to see him come closer. She ate quickly, expecting trouble?
He clears his throat regardless.
RE: gonna spend the rest of my life - Necahual - December 30, 2020
truly, she could appreciate his efforts upon realizing them. but the midwife freezes regardless, narrow shoulders tightening and hunching slightly as moonstones flicker to the sooty shadow creeping along the borders of her peripherals.
the wind comes from behind the male, in his favor, and his scent - unaligned and tainted with wilderness like her own. sharp and soothing like the musk of a familiar den - is the only thing that keeps her from retreating. instinct rears its ugly head for a moment, and she nearly snatches her catch against her chest as if to shield it from the dispersal.
the mahogany-pelted male clears his throat and the sylph turns towards the charred firebrand with the sense of turning towards the crackling coals of a banked fire, pale gaze meeting the whiskey of his own. aerin attempted a polite smile but the corners of her mouth only spasmed, cheeks aching at the unfamiliar expression. the dove whet her lips, allowing her features to settle back into a still calmness.
at her first attempt to speak, her lips parted uselessly - no sound escaping. the sighthound had to clear her throat and swallow heavily before the words would come.
"'ello. vould ye like some fish?" the exile rasped, her voice little more than a smoky rasp as she started the first conversation she'd had in half a year.