Flycatcher Downs Vindhviða

Quiet flakes drifted from the wall of clouds that enshrouded the mountains in the west. Beyond the clumps of clouds, the evening sky was painted by dulled colors, gradually fading into their darker shades. Zephyrs tugged impishly at the somber hairs of the winter coat. The falling sparse snowflakes flitted before setting atop her head and along her spine. 

Arnarkla sat upon the corpse of a fallen tree above the waving, yellow blades of grass. Moonlit eyes stared expectantly at the blotched sky, awaiting the appearance of the first star. 

She had finished a patrol before veering away to the downs. A hunt was intended on her way back to the Valley. For now, the wraith was enchanted by the opening act of the weather, awaiting the show the heavens would give.

they knew this shadow.

she had not thought they might be reunited so soon. yet the days had grown colder and now winter dared to show that first of its presence in cold flakes. she was driven to want to give up her solitude.

were they remembered? would they be as welcomed as they had been before?

bracken let out a soft rumble, warm and curious.

The wind had brought a familiar scent before the rumble of greeting reached her left ear. It flicked, and then her head turned toward the approaching figure of the scorched wolf. Moonlit eyes lit up and her ears perked in recognition. Dangling off the curve of the trunk she sat upon, her tail wagged. 

She remained where she was seated but there was room should the giantess opt to join her. Arnarkla wondered if she might be guided somewhere else that evening.

there was something charming in this moment.

she watched the woman seated upon the tree, the golden grasses waving below with the cold soft breeze. bracken did not want to be up there. she wished to be down here. almost as if she was a devout follower and this shadow a deity come to visit in the cold evening.

with careful steps she moved closer. headed lowered and laid upon the fallen tree — like an altar — the other sat upon. gaze peered up beyond her brow so she might watch the shadow woman.

The giantess rested her chin on the fallen tree's trunk. Arnarkla's tail continued to sway on the opposite side. There was the small curiosity to know the scorched wolf's name. Monikers floated in her mind. Even after the time that lasted since their last encounter, the mountain wolf refrained from being the one to shatter their silence. It felt sacred and yet was also spurred by a childish competitiveness.

She craned her neck as she bowed her head to sniff at the woman's nose to archive her scent.

neither one spoke.

so it would remain.

they were enchanted by something here. perhaps it was simply loneliness come to rear its head with the cold weather. maybe it was something beyond both of them. she was not particularly spiritual, she could not say it was divine intervention.

but maybe this shadow woman was as close as mortals could be to divinity.

nose to nose.

she dared a cheeky action in swiping out her tongue to lick the woman's chin.

The swipe of the tongue to her chin made her ears flick in soft surprise. A small smile reached her haunting eyes as she straightened back into her seated posture. Her tongue wetted her nose. 

In her mind, she dubbed the scorched wolf Kyndilla—the torch. 

She tilted her head in a silent, ambiguous question that would take any sort of answer.

something was being asked, some curiosity was shining through.

bracken answered it as if she was only a whimsical creature. not bound by any social norms when it came to this woman. it thrilled her. she delighted in it so deeply.

coltishly, she bounded off a few steps on rather long limbs.

head turned to gaze back at the woman. deep amber eyes came to life with unspoken emotion.