Spotted Eagle Mountain there's really no way of winning

@Legend !!!!!

Zaahira could not bring herself to go home.
It had been days, no, possibly weeks now, and the image of Selena's cold skin and milky eyes has not left her mind. Unable to sleep, unable to eat, unable to do much of anything aside from walk.
And so that's what she does. Long, winding trails up into the mountains, red-hot burning of muscles and unforgiving gravel, until when she looks down, she can see the Lake. It is small, miniscule, meaningless from up here.
The physical pain of climbing does little to cut into the numbness that feels like it might suck her into a black hole. She is still as she sits down on a ledge, nestled right beside a lonesome sage bush. She is nothing. She feels nothing. She feels like nothing.
And here, for now; she is alone.

An echo of a raven she once knew was not far.

Though this one was not dead.

This one had a heart thrashing in her chest, with lungs of great mammals before their time breathing in controlled excess. She is alive and merciless in mind.

Though she is a handcrafted jester of the devil's hands, doing cartwheels at his feet and spinning in circles at command.

From the depths, she's followed a scent! Night was welcoming of scent travel and offered her a path to a familiar scent. One of the many she'd been bouncing around with.

She comes in confident, head high and tossing aside the aggressive memory of her. Death is ignorable!

"You here? Alone?" She means not to startle her, so she arrives to her vision from her right with good distance, sitting in her peripherals.

A sound. A voice.
It is the raven, the one who is reminiscent of her maiden, but not. This one is not a raven, but a dove; eyes the color of smoke, the black of her pelt broken up with a splash of eggshell, covering a beating heart. She is smiling, but it isn't returned.
Yes, is her response, whistled through her teeth. She cannot remember the last time she spoke. Perhaps it was to Khaba. alone.
Zaahira does not directly invite the dove to come to her side, but does not shoo her away. She straightens her back, one eyebrow quirked in curiosity to break an otherwise flat expression. What could she possibly want with her?

"I see."

Looking forward, she could see the distance drop of the cliffs. Stranger of willows was a lone traveler. How far she had gone for a pack wolf. Scaling a mountain was no quick choice! Maybe to stranger, mountains were her sand.

She does not come closer, only sits and mimics the royal woman she met before; the one with lush fur and jade eyes. So, her tail curls over her paws! Perhaps this stranger would choose to see her as a great royal too! Fancy, fancy moves.

"Why has she come alone?"

The truth was, Zaahira didn't fully know how to answer that. Sucking in a deep breath, she allows the thin mountain air to fill her lungs, holding it until it hurts. A drawn-out exhale, and with it, her eyes hood. To think.
Her knees tuck close to her chest, ochre tail flush against the outside of her thigh. Raven, she rasps, a tilt to her head. Raven gone, now. And with her raven gone, her respect for her Alpha had begun to dwindle. Which she did not know how to cope with. How could he watch as his own women turned against each other over something so simple? The crooked grin he held, the power in his shoulders as he sat back. The blood—
What if it had been her?
A serpentine paw stretches outward, pointing to the little devil. Dove, that would be her name. There could never be another raven. does Dove like the Lake?

She spoke of a name only she knew as herself, not as a stranger. To her, this stranger was long gone. A ghost of a being she'd not known.

There'd been the soft scent of blood.

A wolf that'd long gone.

Zaahira would grieve alone in that much. Legend only quirked her head at the name, and Legend's silence over it had only been to let her talk. This way, by the end, when she pointed at her and called her directly, she understood that this pain was not from her.

So, then she looks off, tightening her shoulders together and finding her eyes more than fixated on swaying branches. She hums out a gentle and expressive, "Hmmmmm," only to return her nose to point at the new face of the other. "Lake is okay. But," she pauses, swishing her tail about and breaking her mimic of Grackle. Her maw pushes down to the fur of her chest, offering her cheeky smile again, "Lake is far too quiet for I." Swish, swish.

Legend had been blind to the truths of this lake. She knew nothing of it. "Lake does not seem bad for the lost. Have thoughts come to you, stranger?"

Her foreign, pointy ears gave this stranger all of their attention.

It was in some way relieving to know her doubts about her Lake were shared. But this dove was oblivious as to why; that much she could see in the way she grins lopsidedly, the haphazard twitch of a thin little tail. She had not seen the horrors that took place shortly before her arrival.
Perhaps she deserved to know.
When she asks of Zaahira's thoughts, the serpent is still for a long while. Gaze fixed on the rocky fixture beneath her feet, a heaviness had seemed to cloak her as her shoulders drop. Abruptly, lips part; Lake is death, is what she says, and her eyebrows knit together as she tries to refine the jumble of broken words that swim in her mind. Lake rescue Zaahira. But Lake lies. Khaba, she struggles with his name in particular, her upper lip curling into a venomous snarl. Khaba let Raven die. Khaba bad. Why kill Raven?
She is quiet again, but only for a few seconds that feel like eons before the sobs begin to wrack her little body. It is a slow descent before it isn't; she is composed until she is sucked into the eye of the storm, helpless and disposable and fleeting, no warning given.
Want, she chokes out in between bubbles of saliva. want Khaba gone. Want Lake gone.
And with trembling paws, she hoists herself back up to stare at the dove with unrepentant, bottled-up rage that had nowhere to go now. Want Raven back.

"Khaba... take from you?"

She is grieving.

She notices this.

And for a moment, she is scouring through her mind. Legend is watching, tail swaying side to side to the lonely path behind them. It is them, her and Stranger, and Legend is beginning to be struck with something. Seth sent her here? Where blood has been shed and Khaba is a liar? So, now she becomes frustrated! She is to find her serpents mystery woman on her own while he snacks his bitsy stomach away?! She does as simple and asked; she is fetching and retrieving, and now she learns he has hidden things. Secrets? No, not secrets! Worse than secrets! Secrets were nothing and whatever! It's not that he has hidden a secret, it's that he's hidden the fact that she's been given more work than he told her!

Too much!

She too lazy!

And worse?!

No payment!

PREPOSTEROUS!

So now? She is quirking her head, her smile growing as she pictures what it might be like to slap the pretty little shit out of Seth's pretty little face. She wags her tail while doing so, because in this moment, it makes her happy. Daydreamy, lost in thought of Seth and how his big handsome fur would feel slipping away from her paws as she pushes him into a river!

Fine! Maybe Legend is dramatic! She childishly straightens up and tries to stomp away her pretty, petty little thoughts!

They're still there. Yet she is still focused on Zaahira next. She is interesting.

"I would have never expected from Lake. Where does Zaa-hira choose to go now? Back to lake? Zaa-hira does not wish to be alone, does she?"

Through bleary eyes, she can see the dove is clearly... upset about something, thrashing and stomping like a bratty child. Perhaps not at Zaahira. Had Khaba wronged her just as well?
An opportunity arises.
Sniffling, she is quick to regain control, refocusing her attention on the jackal at her hands. There were no more tears that needed to be shed. Selena was gone. Crying would not fix it. Blinking, she leans closer, a lit match behind eyes of tangerine.
Dove upset, her head tilts, an action nearly mirroring the youthful nature of the little bird. Why Dove upset? She points again to her with the tip of her nose, which then flows down to point at the Lake.
Perhaps her revolt did not have to be a lonesome one. The snake rattles her tail, and; if she played her cards right, the dove would fly towards the sound.

As she scours her brain for places that she thinks would be suitable, she recalls something that brings a quirk to the corner of her mouth. The desert wolves. The ones Zharille scampered off to. The place Khaba hates.

What could be better?
Zaahira go to desert, she thinks, a cool shrug of her shoulders, a light shake of her head. Another sniffle. Dove follow?

"Zaa-hira," she looks over to the tree line, batting her eyes and pouting her lip, "and Legend, you and I, we are not all different. Zaa-hira has been lied to and lost her companion? You are travelling? Then," another pause. Perhaps a sniffle of her own came out, but it was not from weeping as Zaahira had been. "We both know betrayal in the presence of Lake. We will compile our livelihoods back- together? Sands are where I am going."

"I know way to sands, if you might follow I? There lies a great big pack."

Though, Lake had not been the traitor. Her wounds did not come from there!

No!

Worse!

Terrible!

NO MONEY FOR WALKING BLIND TOWARDS DEATH PIT!

A deeper frown hits her lip. "I have come searching for a lady. I can not find her!"

Legend figures the 'death pit', or the lake, now might be safer. Maybe she'll stay here to rub it in his stupid steamy face.

Frowning, she bounds hesitantly towards Zaahira and goes to offer an affectionate poke against her cheek. Zaahira understands her. Legend too is overwhelmed with her own emotions, and in Zaahira's grief, she is offering empathy.

It is then, Legend considers, that this lost companion named 'Raven' could have been her runaway.

So she was not alone in this feeling of betrayal and loss. The Lake was not what she had been led to believe. A brief blip of pity washes over her; Legend was new, fresh blood, had only just dipped her toes in, and she already wanted to leave? Khaba should be shivering down to the bone.
As Zaahira glares down at the Lake, the place she once quietly worshipped, wrapped in a silken scarf of seaweed and bathing in lukewarm brine; it looks like nothing more than a lake.
To the Sands they would go, then. She seals their deal with a soft croon and a swift nod.

When there is mention of a missing lady, Zaahira pauses again. Several have come and left in these past moons, some just as quick as they had arrived. Khaba had built himself a harem of many, and though it had not been her job to keep track, she remembers them all. Perhaps not in name, but in face.
Describe her, she commands, a questioning lilt to the rasp of her voice. Perhaps she was thinking of the giantess, or her Raven, or the young one. Or that small one with the wide eyes, whom she had only caught glimpses of from afar.

The touch of cold nose to warm cheek is unexpected, but in some way appreciated. With Legend pressed at her side, the taste of Khaba's kiss melts away into something indiscernible. The thought of him used to surge into a full-body ember, but all that remains of it now is hardened ash.

It's nice to not miss it anymore.

There are two worlds intertwining. She hears Zaahira's grief, feels her betrayal, and she can see a hurricane that is only Zaahira's own. There is bubbling curiosity in this raven, and for her serpent, she feels thorns digging into her pads.

Legend does not know what is happening. She knows, and has only known, that she is to find an unknown lady and bring her back to the god. In her, there's a drive to deliver. It is all she can think of. How to please, how to bring this thing, how to find what she's been asked to, and how to lead it back blindly.

The realm of Akashingo. It is a fantasy to her, and she returns to it so frequently. Life has been hard and cruel to hold her from a place reminiscent of home! It is devouring her!

His voice in revibrating. It brings her so high to remember the wonder of their travels, to know where it might lead. To know that where they are headed is unknown will continue churning her stomach, beating her throat. It's wonderful. "Sand," she speaks, feeling bathed in Khonsu as she looks to him. "Is called-- Akashingo! I know it, because I've been washed in tales of its grand! But I have not found important lady, you see?"

she slightly leans off of Zaahira, as her head had been gently resting on her beforehand as a nuzzling comfort for herself. "She is called 'Nazli'. Does she dwell, Zaa-hira?"

Legend may not have been able to bring Nazli, but perhaps she can bring someone better to prove her worth.

note to self, making a lot of assumptions here that may or may not be omitted at a later date

Ahhh-kaasshhhh-inggg-ohhhh, Zaahira repeats, drawing out every syllable as she tests it on her tongue. She doesn't like the way it feels in her mouth, at first, so she says it again. Aaahh-ka-shinggg-ooohhh? A-ka-shin-go. Akashingo.
If Legend is correct about its grandeur, it will be a far better place than here. That's to say they would even take her with the rotten stench of lake water on her pelt and the lingering taste of Khaba. But fuelled by an unhinged jaw and rage that spews out of her in the form of molten lava, perhaps she could offer them something of value.
Nazli, it's a change of pace when Zaahira says the name. If she remembered correctly, Nazli was the little one with the wide eyes who disappeared not long after Zaahira's own arrival. They'd never spoken, but she did remember her; that angular little face, her voice, her name being spoken from her own lips. Nazli gone. Zaahira know not where Nazli is. Sorry, She shrugs her shoulders. Nazli from A-ka-shin-go?

At Zaahira's pronunciation, Legend remembered it all too vividly. Akashingo. He made sure, and it had worked all too terrible well, that she would remember such thing. It had been deeply ingrained as a trophy in her mind. Nodding along with Zaahira, she chimed along with her with a prideful smile across her inky lips. "Uh-huh! Ah-ka-shing-oh!"

Naaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaazzzzzzli. The moment she got a clue of Zaahira pulling out a response over the mystery woman, her ears shot up to the sky and her posture fixed itself to a polish. Then Zaahira would meet her with her question with an answer. "EH?" That posture shattered into itty-bitty pieces, paws sliding and head leaning forward to look at her. "Nazli- no? No Nazli?" Tip-pattering around on her pads, she did a small dance to herself with big doe-eyes that happily dropped their siren glint.

"No Nazli."

From the corner of her squinted eye, it moved to Zaahira swift as stars before moving away. Quick acknowledgement. "I do not know," she replied, slightly pouting a frown while looking down to the lake and its secrecy. Legend only knew her name, not where she was from, or why she was needed.

"What a shame," she mused. Though, not all is wasted! She had a new friend, and a new destination was set.

Legend isn't all upset, apart from wanting to sock Seth.

This is riveting.

last response from me!! lovely writing with legend as always <3

With the way Legend pouts at the apparently unfortunate news, Nazli must be of some level of importance. Whether it was to Akashingo, to Legend, or to someone else entirely, Zaahira could not discern, but either way, it mattered little to her.
Giving a cold shrug, at that, Zaahira shifts to a stand. A small rumble leaves her lips as dust is shaken from fur and limbs are stretched out. We leave, she demands, a sudden flatline to a previously otherwise animated tone. Shoulders back and head tipped high towards a moon-drunk sky, pointed form rimmed with pale blue. Have you any friend in A-ka-shin-go? Zaahira speak with. Even if the Dove did not, the snake would make herself known to them.

She looks back for the Dove only once as she begins to climb downward. Surely she'd follow anyways. What had once been a dark despair was now replaced with white-hot seething rage, toiling, seething, scorching beneath her skin.
She looks at the lake for one last time from above. It is nothing but water, and for the first time in a long time, she feels relief.

Thank you for the thread!!

With her head quirked up, at Zaahira's word she came to a quick. Whether or not she had a friend, Zaahira would have to see for herself. Legend gave no answer other than a small hum of a, "Hm," turning tail to break sight of the lake.

Goodbye, lake.

Though, somewhere she knew this goodbye was not permanent.

With a pep in her step, she trotted forward with a level head, flicking her tail to motion. She would guide this calf back to the den of beasts. "Come along," was said with a blissful tranquillity as she romanticized what could be in the upcoming future. For Teekon.