The Sentinels oh, a second verse!

There was so little to do that Indie found herself in the throes of extreme boredom. The vaudevillian nurtured an incredibly active mind and when it was not being utilized for debauchery or rehearsals or strategy, Indie’s body buzzed with the circuit of underutilized energy. The veiled woman attempted to channel this vitality into traversing her landscape and traveling large distances, oftentimes electing to take the path less traveled in the name of distraction. Indie was never one to shy away from a challenge and in fact she welcomed the landscape’s remonstration in the name of bettering herself. When the next opportunity came along, she would be ready and she would JUMP AT IT. 

— but sometimes this would manifest itself as nervous ticks and obsessions. The femme was a vain creature at heart and spent more time that she would like to admit preening her velveteen pelt and ensuring that every hair was just so. If the feathering at her ankles, or the scarf that enveloped her withers and breast were not pleasing to her own eyes, Indie would rake her teeth through the fine hairs and use her tongue to mould it until it emphasized her curves in a way that would be a panacea to any wolf she happened to come across. Other wolves were so few and far between that there was no room to err, and for Indie, beauty played a huge part in that. 

Then, once upon a time, Indie found herself back on the coast. She knew naught how she got here — perhaps her feet had their own agenda! Perhaps it had been the smell of the brine that reminded her of the Nereides and their exotic style of sisterhood. Perhaps it was the ever-smoldering remains of that forest; the one that once stood proud high upon the cliffs [Indie had never seem the coppice in its prime, but she was certain of its previous grandeur]. The memory of her visits to the boneyard had never truly left Indie. Flames, infernos... they took everything and left nothing, without asking for permission or offering an apology. It was the way she wished to live, free and footloose. Fire enticed her, energized her, seasoned her mind with a certain zest for life; whereas water was calmer, centered, balanced. Now with youthful summertime greenery beginning to push up from the wintered ashes, there were so many opposing forces at play that it was almost dizzying. 

Indie did not know which one she preferred any more. 

The scout's pathway had met the coastline, finally, so since, she followed its edge onward. With nothing better, and no greater challenge rising, she began to step into the lifestyle of a beast of a seaside. While only a glimpse, it was well enough to know how different it was. From the food to the spaces, she found nothing smelled quite the same as before. The scavenging changed and even her travels seemed to meander on at a different pace--much different from when on the elevations of a range, or even the vastness of  open prairelands.

She was not so sure she liked it that much with seasalt so overwhelming (stinging, sometimes!) on her senses, but she was adaptable and eager to know more. The allure of it was just building and she, only learning.

When she finally found herself threading into a new locale of interest, one more fascinating than the waves themselves, she geared down the pace and perked. Interesting enough, it appeared to be remains of something greater ravaged--no, charred, up here upon these cliffs. It did not seem very recent, but brutally noteworthy--leaving her to wonder just how it had come to be. She went deeper in until a surprisingly fresh trail led her to pawprints. She went after them for a time to eventually find the dark female..

Painfully attentive, and certainly looking to find out more, she ghosted closer. She had not seen another for several days now, as realization reminded her when she went to offer a greeting and the best she got was a gritty, almost-chuff to engage her.. Hopefully favorably, but the scout knew better than to let expectations run faster than she could.

Indie continued to snuffle through the aging ashes, noting the aged way it crumbled ‘neath her paws.  The scenery had once held strong; charred remains of flora and fauna alike, reduced to mere ashes from the passing months and the strong summer sun. It allowed new growth to begin to push through, though it was clear that nothing large would grow here for some time — nothing like the sentinels Aria spoke of in her stories. Perhaps they would never see their likes again.

New beginnings might make any other wolf feel bright and light, but not Indie! No, somehow the  scene’s melancholic impermanence, the degradation of this holy sepulcher, saddened her. It had been engulfed in a conflagration and made to be nothing — and now what was the forest? Where were the Donnelaith wolves? They were only memories, now; remembered through the stories of those left behind. 

It reminded her too much of Donovan to provide her any sort of comfort.

So, Indie was pleased when another announced their presence. The vaudevillian greeted the stranger with an endearing smile, not alluding to the melancholy that gripped her.  “Oh, hi, hello!” she greeting in a dancing tone, happy for the company.  There was so little company nowadays. “How do you do?”

She blinked, and lifted her head up a small notch to the lilt of the greeting returned. It was very much unlike what she considered typical so for the very next moment, the scout felt it wise to take her chance. Risks beyond the typical did not yet make themselves obvious, not so much with the paws and jaws of this woman. Interest outweighed all else. "Hi," she offered, still stepping closer, only far more slowly now. Despite the pull of the ashen scenery, she stayed zeroed in, studious, and deliberately attuned--all in her wicked thirst to only know more than she did. With other company of the canine sort so rare lately, she simply doesn't want to botch any opportunity too quickly. "I do alright. You..?" she replied with a flick of her snout towards the dark-coated female for the very last syllable.

For all of her lack in outright expressiveness, she attempted to let her curious warmth be seen, felt even, signaled quietly by the flutter of her dusty tail. "Do you know what this place is?" she asked with her next breath as she finally paused with one paw off the ground, looking poised to take to motion again without hesitation.