Raven's Watch quoth the raven, nevermore

what had happened at Diaspora was in the brief past. she had gone there to query about the community and whether she was accepted or not, we keep such things vague. Huntington stepped now, lanky legs carrying her to the Raven's Watch. abruptly named; perhaps some more thought should have been in it? her eyes scanned the treeline for the avians. their tiny little black pearls stared back. she did not call out to them, nor hunt them. she continued on.

scouting the landscape for foliage, she'd peer over the edge of the watch. below her was an appropriate paradise of undefiled earth. though how to get to it? she would explore further. edging dangerously along the edge, her claws dug into the ground to prevent her from bowling over. she saw no outward crop to slide along to the earth. perhaps the entrance was in another place. Huntington grunted softly and moved back to 'safety'. it was then her eyes caught something moving. she would pause, waiting for it to pass. whatever it was.

Indeed, Huntington's keen sight did not betray her. 

Although she found herself not far from the coast, the distance was considerable given Akantha's proclivities. Raven's Watch, once a favored haunt following her fall from grace, held sway with her tide-locked heart. The beady-eyed corvids that called the loft home harbored no territorial aggression towards her; she was no more than a shadow, and certainly no threat to their livelihood. Two ships passing in the night. 

But when she lowerered her nose to investigate a recent trail, she caught wind of another—fresher scent. A single ear swiveled with apprehension as she stiffly straightened her posture, and twitched her tail to indicate her displeasure with the current circumstances; was she being watched, or was it merely coincidence that she would drift into this territory shortly after another? 

Akantha pressed on, slower now.

some large, bulking form... or merely the dark playing tricks upon her. the skull clad woman would merely watch as the other moved. the scent told her it was canine. a wolf, then. Huntington was bold in the sense of her words cutting across more so than her actions. she was not the type to approach others; she waited and bided her time. as such, others were unnerved by her constant surveillance. the way her pale eyes did not blink. judging one before words were exchanged.

"I know you are there" perhaps her exchange at Diaspora had given her unused voice a sort of exercise. she spoke now, flinging her void words at the other. Huntington's head would rise, viewing the darkling with hooded eyes. "though you need not to gift me an audience." no, she would not press her company upon others when she herself did not want company. her head would turn now, looking back across the watch. though there was a sort of invitation to her tone. 

if the other wanted to speak, to approach, she would not be opposed.

I know you are there. 

"And I, you," Akantha answered without missing a beat as she turned her eyes towards the woman on high. The invitation, issued between the macabre lips of a wholly skeletal visage, evoked a certain niggling curiousity in her that demanded answers for answer's sake. If the she-wolf lusted for a fight, she would not have announced her presence so readily... or so Akantha presumed. A dangerous thing, presumptions. But the amazonian brute considered the proposal before breaking out into a trot and diverting to a path that led to the higher reaches. 

Here the Siren hesitated—a respectful, but conversational, distance away. The stranger wore a mask of pale ivory and she wondered, fleetingly, if it was a curse or a blessing. 

"Are you hunting?" 

"no" came Huntington's simple reply before she allowed some silence to come between them. a ghost of a smile etched across her features before it disappeared completely. "I had just come from Diaspora" hunting did not cross her mind yet. she had eaten before setting foot in the Teekons and oft would go long hours before eating. she had too much on her mind to be reminded of substance. "their version of a welcome party... was amusing." and so very disappointing.

perhaps the stranger's manners sparked something in Huntington to share? the woman did not seem the illogical one. idiots were always a bane of her existence. "suffice to say; I am seeking a house" not a home, for nothing was permanent in this day and age. and she also refused to play home with others. respect was earned, a home was fought for. she did not fight for any pack so far. she was no ward to any community.

The ghastly visage of the stranger quirked into a fleeting echo of a smile before vanishing beneath inexpressive regard. Akantha met it in kind, her own inky lips tugging into a smile at the answer. Diaspora was not a word that tugged at memories buried beneath the years; either a new pack, or one so utterly insignificant to her during her reign in these lands that she hadn't thought it prudent to anchor it. Nevertheless, the information served a purpose--a trail to the conclusion Huntington arrived at. 

"Every woman has a home, although many forget where, and why," a single switch of an ear punctuated the cryptic remark while her hazel-green eyes hovered near the stranger's own will-o-wisp hues in a non-threatening display of curiosity. The eyes, as so often said, were windows to the soul. And Huntington's was as indistinct as a passing breeze. "Summer is nearly upon us. You may very likely find success alone until the chilly winds blow if none of these homes, as you say, suit your purposes." 

She licked her jowl and chuckled, "However, the coast is an ill-advised destination. History has shown it to be hotly contested, and I do not believe that has changed in the time I have been away." 

well, the other was not a complete idiot. perhaps less than she assumed of others. "a home is a pretty thing" Huntington would muse "with a pretty meaning. though it is oft bathed in blood more times than naught." she did not care to fight for a home, for there was no personal goal. if she was in the Teekons, she had abandoned 'home' long ago in favor of the road. she would shed for a 'house'. a temporary thing, full of ideal potential and a measure to be built upon. and if she shed for the house, she would soon grow weary and abandon it. a house was easier to let go of. 

she had met several beings last time she was in the wilds at the coast. new packs sprang up, competing for the hand of the sea. "I am always alone" the woman would add in, no spark of sadness to her tone at all "at least with others surrounding me, it gives me an outward purpose." it was hard to find cadavers if she was really alone. there was no illusion to her words. she was better suited to be a solo act. no man or woman wanted her deeper than a passing interest. to stare at her face and judge her before knowing her.

Huntington had spent several days at the coast last year. curiosity was sparked, to wonder what had changed. her head instinctively turned to where the location was. "a good place to start" she'd remark, showing she was no coward to shy away from a bloodbath.

"As is our way," she concluded, "though there is little need for it here. The Teekons have food aplenty, and miles upon miles of territory open to claim. Why these beasts deign to squabble with their neighbors is beyond my understanding." 

Akantha, as if drawn forth by the tempting call of her curiousity, padded forward until she stood near to, but not alongside, Huntington. She coiled her hindquarters, and sat comfortably upon her heels as the other woman answered. She required no further information as she was rarely in the business of gathering information for the sake of possession. The pale-faced she-wolf did not appear to harbor ill-intent and, as such, she was content to merely converse until necessity drove them apart. 

A single canine flashed against her inky lips at Huntington's conclusion, and an amused huff spilled from her nose. "You may find those who inhabit the coast are of a unique breed. Far more savage than those who brook treaties, and divide evenly amongst themselves. Truer wolves than most, if that is your calling." 

she was no fool to be coddled with a soft life. she merely wished to be without trouble or harm while she continued her 'research'. a protector would be the first step to achieve that safety, though many had been unsettled by her mere presence as of late. Huntington did not understand (or more like she failed to understand her own eerieness) why, for she had kept her head down so far. she could not work under these circumstances if her potential test subjects fled before she collected their data. 

pale eyes would light back up with conscious thought at the movement of the other woman. being not a temperamental witch, the skull clad woman would merely watch as the other approached. she sat a bit close, though not next to her. "true wolves or not" she turned her head away as she found the other's presence not that awful and therefore not of interest to bring up "I will try there next." she could easily nestle in a neutral pack, hide in the peace and safety it offered. but where was the fun in that? Huntington knew not every pack required healers; merely assumed. she could find a coastal pack and ply her trade with them.

for as long as possible. until she grew bored, potentially. "you speak as if you have knowledge of them" Huntington's eyes shot back to the woman "am I right to assume you have been in the Teekons before?"