Lone Star Mountain she dreamed of paradise

@Dakota Tikaani

Twilight wore a wrap of crimson, bleeding into chartreuse and distilling into periwinkle - crowned by Polaris. 

The distant jewel of diamond winked as it watched over the battered woman's progress, southbound; an attempt to confuse trackers and shake off her pursuers. With the sun sinking beyond the mountains, it meant a time to rest her tired bones. 

Her camp was chosen spontaneously, selected only because the terrain was darkening, only because the cavern was empty when she tiptoed within on timid steps - sniffing the air for signs of life. 

The drumming war of clashing rams, accompanied by the trill of crickets and throaty bellows of frogs, was a soundtrack of the spring evening as the wyvern settled in by the entrance to watch the wind dance in the trees and the sky paint itself in hues of night - badger pelt cast upon the floor as a makeshift bed. 

Stars freckled the lavender atmosphere as the druid curled up comfortably against the stone wall, breeze tickling her wispy ears as she set about grooming herself contentedly.

Dakota was here again. In a spiral of connecting caves, searching for a place that maybe just be able to house his pack; he looks for their own little paradise. He might not find it soon but if he does of course that would be something to truly boast about to his family. The family that he doesn’t know already found their eternal paradise, still he searches for them for what? All he knows it’s called paradise, but for what it looks like? He’s not quite sure.

His paws carry him throughout the black of the cavern. I’m one instance he comes across a dimly lit room where many tunnels meet. The room is covered in tall, impressive crystals. They shine ethereally when the moon is at the right angle in the sky. At the moment, he believes he might have found paradise just by how beautiful it is, but fitfully, he shakes his head–no, this can’t be it.

Onwards he goes thinking that might never make it out, until he turns a corner and eyes catch on an entrance to one of many underground tunnels. Not the way he came in but good enough for Dakota. He sees the moon shining just outside, he’s impressed with himself even he really didn’t even try navigating, he just kept walking.

Then a small ball of white can be seen just by the entrance, he wonders what it is. So he finds himself walks lazily you towards it. His paws aren’t quiet, his overgrown nails tap-tap-tap on the cavern floor. He’s tilting his head, skull level with his back he comes ever to closer. Those golden hues of his seem to glow in the dark in the dim lighting and would surely startle anyone who was not paying enough attention.

Soon enough he realizes it’s another animal. A wolf, dog, canine type of animal. Then slicing through the song that the night songs his voice sings throughout the cavern walls.

“Evening.” He says smoothly, not wanting to startle if they still haven’t noticed him.

The pitsiark stilled, sensing the presence of another at her back - an instinct only the damaged and defeated have gained - before the clacking of his steps reached her perked auds. 

Turning, she started with a gasp at the golden orbs that glinted from within the shadows. The dome of her frosted crown smashed against the shelter of stone, vision blurring as she watched in stricken horror as the beastly silhouette materialised before her eyes. 

Drawn tightly against the inadequate coverage of the cave's wall, Fen's form bunched with adrenaline and her limbs shook with terror. Possibilities whirled through the storm of her mind's hurricane eye, imagining the worst. 

Lips trembling, fighting back the vicious snarl of a cornered creature, she managed to locate her voice. 

"Who are you? What do you want?" She barked, eyes ablaze, without yet realizing she'd spoken in her mother's tongue. 

Dakota raises his head and steps back from the frightened animal. The voice is distinctly feminine but the words that come out are unfamiliar. For a moment he vaguely believes she’s just put a hex or spell on him by how foreign the words sound to his Northerner ears.

He walks around her to stand in the moonlight that beams down into the mouth of the cave. “I mean no harm.” He says with a smile on his easy, handsome face. “I’m Dakota. Who're you?” He asks rather sweetly.

Her eyes did not leave him, roving to trail after the creature as it edged past - entire body turning in unison, instinctively keeping the wall at her back. 

She calmed only slightly when the male stepped into the light, lips smoothing over small fangs as a pink tongue darted out to lick at her chops nervously. Seelie eyes, turned luminescent silver in the cold light, darted betwixt pebble-strewn floor and the paws opposite her. 

He seemed unirked by the nomad's outburst, however, his voice saccharine - honeylike in its amber warmth. The druid settled politely, a quiet ball of white curled against the cave's embrace; yet, her guard didn't lower right away.

Awenfen had seen handsome men, snakeskins to hide the monster underneath. And she had seen kind men - men who were as likely to lunge for your throat as they were to kiss it within the security of hearth walls. 

The runaway did not judge him, but neither did she trust him - not with fear still coiled around her heart. 

"My apologies," she murmured, whetting her lips as she collected herself. 

"Wördronna," was the name she gave him.

His golden eyes that seem to glow ethereally watch as her little pink tongue pokes out to lick her chops anxiously. The fur along her back is bristled and previously she had her fangs bared at him. He wasn’t afraid, for he meant no harm to the female, even if she doesn't know that.

He takes in her form in the moonlight, the wispy, white locks she adorns is rather fascinating. He’s never seen an animal like her. He tilts his head down to her. “Don’t apologize.” He says casually. “You’ve done nothing wrong.” 

Then his mind twists around the word she gives next, trying to burn how she said it into his mind so he doesn’t butcher the pronunciation when he says it back. “Wördronna?” He parrots. “Is that your name?” He asks hesitantly, unsure if she was just speaking in a different language. 

“You’re beautiful. I’ve never seen someone like you.” He says just above a whisper seemingly fascinated by her appearance in the blue-white light.

The woman fought the urge to glance up at him, still frought with nerves. The words sound kind, yet there's a command hidden within them someplace. Silently, she nods once - gaze shifting to and fro over the ground uncertainly. 

"Aye," the midwife lilts softly in answer, not completely dishonest. It's one of her names, after all. The slave had known many. 

"Zank ye," she whispers politely, shyly, as her pale brow rumples with vague confusion. It's not a term commonly associated with the sylph. 

"V'at vere ye doin' in zere?" She braves a question, chin jerking faintly towards the dark tunnels in gesture.

He nods in acknowledgment, trying to burn the word in his mind so that he doesn’t forget. He chuckles at her next answer. “You’re welcome.” He gives back casually.

Then she asks what he was doing I think he cave. He tilts his head and a contemplative expression takes over. “I suppose I was just searching.” He comments casually. “For a good place for my family. They’re not around here but yeah, if I can find somewhere nice I’ll try and bring them here.”

For a moment he wonders what his pack could be doing right now. Even though his twisted mind still makes them out to be alive when they’re really not. “It’s very beautiful in there.” He states offhandedly.

Wördronna smiles vaguely at the mention of his family, something forlorn shining through the kind expression. 

"Vhat are zey like? Yer family?" She asked softly, lilt hushed with empathy. It was evident the eccentric male missed them, perhaps speaking of them might help. 

"I'm sure it is," she agreed, casting an unreadable look over her shoulder to the depths of the cave. Something taut and panicked brewed in her chest as she stared into the darkness. Caves were not her forte, not after Grinestone. 

"May ye all fin' 'appiness 'ere," she wisped good-naturedly, facing him again with a smile that wiped away all trace of any discomfort.

He perks up for a second at the mention of his family. Though it only says for a bit as he remembers how far they are. “They’re great.” He chimes. “They‘re mostly dogs. Actually they’re all dogs. I’m the only one with the blood of a wolf.” He looks to the wispy eared female, a hint of something more somber in his eyes now. “I miss them greatly, but it’s only a matter of time before I can get them here. It’ll come sooner or later.” He shrugs, confidence still shines upon him, eager to find his family a suitable home. 

He follows her gaze and notes the change in aura as she glances into the blind darkness of the cave. “Scared of the dark?” He asks with his normal, moderately chipper voice. “I can help you. Maybe take you to that beautiful assortment of crystals that are in there.” He offers confidently.

The woman smiles, a hint of surprise visible in the sheen of her silver gaze. It's not very often she meets another with blood ties to their domesticated brethren - rare enough that she encounters another who even understands what a dog is. 

"Vell, I vish ye all the best of for-tune in yer quest," she murmured encouragingly, though her expression soon faltered as she blanched at the thought of delving into the cave's depths. 

"Nae," she rasped softly, "nae...I vill stay 'ere."