Larksong Grotto Sometimes, with great luck, he will succeed.

The forest was silent. He did not know the name of it, but if he had, Larus would have found it remarkably absent of its namesake birdsong; there was nothing here at all except a few squirrels that ran pell-mell away from him as he crossed between the trees; he had not thought to chase them, although his hunger had grown again and his brain pounded with a dull, unending ache.

He had found himself sequestered on more than one occasion within the woods here—and then more recently, touring a series of caves in search of something to drink. There was a pool of stagnant water deep within one of the grotto tunnels and when he drank from it, carefully at first and then with dire need, he noticed a strong metallic flavor that was unsettling; thankfully Larus could not retain that information for long, and soon forgot.

He moved ahead as the days progressed but never did he leave the grotto, lingering for days on end within the woods that shrouded the heart of the territory. Then, when the quaking earth awoke for a new wave of chaos, he drifted to one of the plateaus along the western limit, watching as the trees swayed and some came crashing to the earth, booming in the distance as they were felled.

There was nothing left to do but remain and haunt the surrounding land. When she could not find them she struck west and north, seeking, because she knew she would accept them as dead only when she saw proof. Until then she would search, endlessly, until she found them or perished trying.

The latter was not out of the question. Her pelt hugged her ribs, as she'd lost a great deal of the weight gained with Rusalka. The quakes had made it a hard time to stalk alone, and while forgotten now, Fennec had been a drain on her resources. She'd managed by chance to find a beast destroyed in a rockslide, and what little she'd kept down sustained her. But the scavenge has been rancid and left her feeling sick on top of hungry; alive, though, at the very least.

Even though the region seemed desolate, she couldn't bring herself to leave. What if they came back? She weaved an unsteady path, searching for word or for at least some manner of prey, but always in her circle she turned back when the days grew too long. Today she was on the cusp of that range, but desperation had driven her farther.

​The shaking caught her unawares.  It had lapsed, but it seemed the earth had a few more throes left.  She braced herself as the trees trembled, then bucked, and panic alighted along her spine as she remembered the ground opening.  Not again.  She took off, sprinting with a crazed abandon in a random direction.... one that would carry her directly past Larus.

i do super fluid time so figure this is after her return threads - let me know if this messes you up!!

This is short sorry!!

The sound of something crunching against the earth heralded the arrival of a shape, dark at first, then fulvous; at first he thought it was a wolf bathed in blood for the vibrance of that maroon coat, but as they came careening by him Larus pulled away from his path and narrowly escaped being caught by their churning limbs. He felt a sudden panic, seeing the ruinous smoke and the hellish glow of the distant mountain as if for the first time, and picked up his own feet, beginning to run beside the stranger.

no worries, I don't mind!

It took Rosalyn a moment to realize that someone was streaking alongside her, but when she did, she felt a momentary flare in her panic.  It wasn't out of the realm of possibility to think he might've been an enemy.  She had enough to spare and then some, here in the wilds.

Then she sensed his panic, same as hers, and glanced behind to spot that same glow.  What is that?! she asked, her raised voice breathless with the charge.