Northstar Vale this night ain't for the holy man with the holy plan

the shadow found themself returned to the vale that had become a temporary home to her small, budding group. temporary, because the voidsent could not bear to think it otherwise; it did not feel right the way a home should. and somehow, she knew that one day she would find a place that did. but not today, not here. so this was to be their autumnal stronghold, a verdant citadel nestled amongst stony giants. the shadow liked it well enough. she made her way toward the semi-permanent home of the skyrock, where it oft lay while she traversed the surrounding lands. paranoia took hold of her whenever she had gone too long without laying eyes upon the cursed thing, drove her feet to it even against her own will. now was not one such time, but the shadow wished to avoid any loss of control, so bitterly she went to her anchor.

for @Necahual & @Momotzli <3

The rogue priestess had smelt the tracks of young children but such borders had been perplexing in the least and concerning at the most. There didn’t appear to be any adults in the area, none that the healer could discern as she trotted through the shelter of the Vale’s forest — only just turning with the season — with Momotzli close to her hip, a flashing blip of wheaten gold against ivory. 

She’d intended to cut through the heart of the territory, perhaps seek the seas beyond the mountains, but the halfling could not help but follow the recent trail of the girl queen who appeared to rule the bountiful mountain pass. Curiosity beckoned, and the familiar scent of @Alduin. 

She stopped on the edge of the trees when she spotted the onyx she-cub, tail wagging and low in neutrality — knowing their claim was unofficial but she still stood on the dark femme’s land. A low, friendly note escaped her scarred throat as she called out, head tipping back slightly.  Her moonstones flickered down to her daughter for but a moment. 

Mantli had made it clear that there were those in the world that would do them harm, perhaps for no reason at all. Her mother’s pale figure was the only permanent one she had known since birth, her father a fading memory of bottled rage. And the gilded girl had never been fond of others anyways. She always made sure to stay close to Necahual — which was the name her dam had chosen to cover their tracks. 

It was no different when they came upon the shadow, a girl slightly older than she who was as dark as the chimera’s mother was pale. Surprisingly, she was still built somewhat like Momotzli — catching the vagabond pup’s curious gaze of mismatched metal where she peeked around Mantli’s slender forelegs.