Lone Star Mountain ships on vigor of the waves are skimming

getting back into the swing of things when it comes to roleplaying. Be gentle <3

Wind raced on stormclouds and spoke to her of freedom.

The sun's path through the blue halls of daylight grew quicker, and as it made its exit in preparation for moon's longer reign, a grey-backed she-wolf made her departure from her natal pack's short-lived homeland. Eyes on yer 'orizin, ears ferwerd, nose at the wind. Each breath held long, cold wind drew into her lungs. Raen's legs felt unsteady as she departed from the Thunder Dome and made her way east. She'd never been truly on her own before, always a brother or sister or mum or da, but Ma had left home at her age, so why couldn't her daughter? 

Raen was a snow-pelted replica of her mother, desperate for more than the life of a rogue pack in the belly of a mountain. It was safe, but it wasn't what she wanted. 'ove ya, Mathri, prum'ce I send werd ta ya when me get the chance.

Her mother looked like she was about to cry. Her father didn't seem like he cared, but he was like that. Bet he was broken on the inside.

But on the heiress of a departed pack left to make her own story, to rebuild the legacy that her parents seemingly didn't want to. 

A pack o' me own? Pft, dat can't be too 'ard, can it?

Mountains weren't his forte exactly; Marius had never been particularly fond of the high altitudes, and was always reminded of his father's fixation with his work (which often took him to the high reaches of Lycaenus where his superiors reigned), or the lessons he had been made to partake in; oftentimes the physical training had left him nauseous with vertigo. It wasn't pleasant, and it wasn't something Marius was prone to repeat.

He hadn't meant to climb this particular range either—but given his proclivity to seek adventure in the form of pretty faces and warm bodies, he was willing to take the chance that something might be found high atop a proverbial tower.

Likening himself to an exploratory hedge knight, he climbed until he found the scent of life upon the paths; something warm and feminine, which was a bonus. Marius felt vindicated as her pale, petite, elfin figure came in to his view — having found someone to entertain him, at least for a little while.

The man cleared his throat and murmured something incomprehensible, acting the part of a lost man oblivious to his company - when he was anything but that.

Raen was anything but petite. A massive, lumbering frame still lanky with a youthfulness that matched her in spite and - more importantly - bite. But suppose a princess of sorts would know well to mind her tongue, for a time. She'd watched her mother closely. The company, though a quick glance gave the mountain daughter pause, was better than the monotony of the mountainside.

Aye, she started, her voice every bit as rugged as an irishwolf's should be, though it was clear it was that of a girl nearing her proper adulthood. Me name's Raen. Yer's? a white-tipped ear flicked passively as she lowered herself onto a nearby patch of rock. Might as well take a small break.

She hadn't seen this one before. He was new to her. Older, by the smell o' him.

To his surprise this woman approached him!
She spoke, or he presumed that's what she was trying to do, but the way in which her mouth formed words made him think she'd had a small stroke beforehand; maybe it was customary for these uncivilized beasts to drop their children wherever they fell straight from the womb? A good knock to the head would explain the slurring.

Still, she was a sight. Reminding the man of the many calves his father had inherited from his own father, and the bulls and the cows; but this woman in particular was very much clothed like a holstein, yet the size of a newborn of the species.

I am Marius Calixtus, traveler, poet, artisan, and intellectual. He wondered if any of those words meant anything to this woman — or maybe she would be stuck on his name, given that her own was monosyllabic and at first encounter, so was the rest of her.

Pray tell, what brings you so far up this mountain? I am here for the views, I was seeking beauty. For once he did not make a quip about his surroundings, neither did he jest with the woman as instinct often led him to.