Deepwood Weald Cry

The sky was hidden behind a dense blanket of rolling grey. It wept, soaking the clouds, and its tears trickled down to the world below. A sharp cry sliced through the thick air, carrying the Wilding's sorrow and desperation with it. For she had lost her other half, separated from him when the earth shook and groaned as if in pain, causing a nearby elk herd to stampede. By no choice of its own, the pair split. For the first time in her life, the Wilding was completely and utterly...

alone.

She'd traveled deep into these lands to search for him, and she would not rest — could not rest until he was found.

Perhaps he was in the weald but became lost in its maze-like design, she thought. And so the lost little creature clung to its outer edge, sending out cry after cry, wail after wail for her beloved Beast to return to her.

The nights grew longer, though the daytimes still warmed hot and humid like summertime some days, and he was unable to ignore the subtle shifts nature was making around him even beyond that. The autumn approached, with time ticking immeasurably forward, him and his home within it.

Since he did not often take changes with grace, even these gentle ones inspired restlessness to buzz in the back of his mind. It was small still, so he could reign it constructively into tracking prey in the lowlands, but even that motive trickled off into a broader scheme when drizzles kept threatening his trails, anyway. He was soon covering the valley some, then on to more by the next hour. Eventually the tangles of the Weald shadowed his path, and a strange call from within drew him in when no longer did pack boundaries deny him here either. Instead, petrichor, and wet plants.. which was fine by him, so he went onward.

Though his route could not cut clean to the source, he found his way, and delved deeper quietly. Maybe he was getting closer--so he hoped, as he listened for more.

She continued along the Weald's perimiter, never ceasing in her calls. A shadow from within materialized, at first appearing to be nothing more than a figment of her imagination. But as it came nearer and nearer, the Wilding could make out its features more clearly: A man of average proportions cast in dark shades with a build that was nonetheless impressive, carrying himself on pillar-like legs.

Beast.

Beast, Beast, Beast! She bounded towards him, whining ecstatically all the while. Her tail waved uncontrollably like a banner in a storm as she was overcome with the bliss of relief. Reunited at last, she no longer had to face the world alone, no longer had to feel fractured... Until she peered into his forest green eyes that matched her own, that were not the piercing icy pools she knew and loved. She felt herself shatter all over again.

This was not her Beast.

And if not him, this must have been a stranger; perhaps a manifestation of her desperate mind after all, another trick by the Weald to lead travelers astray. Except he looked and smelled all-too real, and it frightened the Wilding. She was far too close to this unknown, this foreign thing she didn't understand and thus could not predict.

A dangerous thing.

Skidding to a halt upon her realization, she scampered back, ears flat and body low to the ground. She did not flee due to their close proximity, fearing he would give chase. So she stood there, saucer-eyed and with a pounding, broken heart as she dreadfully awaited what the shadow would do.

Since he tried to travel on the closest route to least resistance, he zigged and zagged enough, ears tilting carefully and the rest of him adapting to the prowl needed. And, while he had come with the sense that he wouldn't be alone for long, a greeting like that was not what he was prepared to arrive into.

She appeared, bounding, and this motion aiming for him was enough to stance him up--something about to turn defensive, if she went offensive, but not quite yet, as that was not the direction that approach took at all. Her whines? The dark Ostrega felt a little startled about their message, honestly, and though her tail waved like she was seeing a friend, nothing about it sparked familiarity in him quite so loudly. His paws stopped hard and fast, and his eyes were wide.

Doubts, incensed by spotting her green eyes--should he know her?--didn't get to take full form before she backpedaled with some realization to almost. But she was so near, he had tensed up himself, half turned away to evade, and now went awkwardly after some recovery. He stepped forward, just enough to ground himself and ease in somewhat, then side-stepped further for more distance. Faced with a stranger, he still.. felt watched. 

Now that he remembered to breath again, attempts to smooth himself could better follow. Ah, I'm guessing I wasn't quite what you were expecting? he said, ears splaying out and steadying his feet. Not like that. He dropped his his neck with a soft chuff, following his best attempt at an apologetic tail wag after feeling so startled just before, thanks to her even. Best to ignore that whiplash, probably, but it wasn't going away fast enough.