Noctisardor Bypass Through the blurry darkness

@Haunt maybe?

 

Since the incident with the wolves from the other pack, life had been quiet for Dægmar. When he was at work he hunted and patrolled, and following Kaertok's advice to him when he'd joined, the shadow kept his distance from the children. He knew he had not entirely gained the trust of the wolves here. But Kaertok's scent had faded from the borders, and with it Dægmar's inclination to follow his commands. There was not a good reason to obey a wolf who was gone, thus Dægmar no longer would shy away from the inner areas of the territory where the children likely played. He had been here for several months now, and looking after children was one of the things that had always brought joy to his dull life. To reignite that happiness would be a lovely thing, he thought as he wandered beside a small stream, occasionally testing the air for the scents of any others nearby.

She sat beside a second offering, a dead snake she'd found not far from a winding stream. It wasn't much and it likely wouldn't please Artemis, if she really existed. Haunt hadn't even killed it herself, after all. But scavenging was an important aspect of the duty too, she knew. She gazed down at the little bundle of sticks with the serpent's corpse tossed unceremoniously atop it as if she was preparing a pyre.

Unaware that she was sitting and staring into space, Haunt looked up when a swarthy figure approached. He sought the children of Kaertok, yet she was neither a child nor Kaertok's any longer. She sat up straighter, spine stiffening as her nose quivered, drawing in his scent. She knew it, though she didn't know him. These days, Haunt felt like she didn't really know anyone aside from Vex and their strange gods.

Her ears splayed a little when she realized he might find the sight of her benefaction strange. She was suddenly tempted to kick it all in the nearby water. But Haunt stayed her twitching paw. Would she rather risk looking weird to some pack mate she hardly knew or pissing off a goddess, after all?

Soon he had come upon a pale girl. Her coat certainly reminded him of Kaertok, and he was satisfied, though found it unfortunate that the male had dissapeared so abruptly. His once-over of her found gold gaze trailing to her paws, where sat an odd contraption. It was a pile of sticks like a bird nest, but upon the top was a dead snake. He raised an eyebrow, and looked upon her with some mischief in his gaze, assuming this was some odd game. Did ye kill zat yerself? He asked of her conversationally, shifting closer with a slightly wagging tail.

His words earned a stare, not because of the nature of his question but because they sounded so peculiar coming off his tongue. Of the four words he spoke, only one of them ("did") sounded normal to her ears. Curiously, she still understood them, though the accent certainly threw her, since she'd never come across one before.

"No," she replied perfunctorily, noting the subtle cues that spoke to a friendly disposition. "Why do you talk like that?" Haunt wondered. She didn't mean to be rude but, as always, she spoke plainly.