Cerulean Cape love left me hollow

wow this post is mega weird.

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Even draped in monochrome encompassing layers of snow the cape stole his breath. Or, rather, it would have would Valr been able to see much of it. As it was, the fog that hung like a thick, palpable veil in the air, obscuring his vision and fucking his sense of direction to all hell he didn't have the luxury of seeing or enjoying the view that, on any other day, would have drawn him towards the crystal clear sea waters despite their acute frigid temperature. He heard the sea ...or thought he did, at least. Fog, though simply another weather condition, played with the mind. Sound was distorted, sight was distorted and it had a particular penchant for causing severe disorientation. 

Still, Valr kept moving forward — even if he wasn't all that sure which direction forward was at the moment. The seer let out a noise of discontent, a small growl though it was not aimed at anything in particular. In truth, he wanted to vent his pent up frustration. He'd had a direction in mind, even though he had yet to decide on a pack ...not that he'd taken any sort of time to stop and speak with them, because he hadn't. He acknowledged their existence but kept moving North. Not that currently, North was doing all that well for him. Valr took a moment's pause in his trek, to try to sniff out some sort of direction ...or find some way to gather his bearings. 

The masked boy wandered through the thick fog that didn't seem to go away anytime soon. He couldn't see anything far beyond a meter in front of him and he looked like a lost pup, eyeing for it's mother. pathetic, He said to either himself or the weather that was getting on his nerves. If only he had some sense of direction, he wouldn't be as lost as he was now. He heard nothing, he saw nothing and he wanted to think nothing anymore too. His optimism said that the fog could lift up any second, while his wiser side said that it would take longer than a day for him to know where the hell he was going. He sighed, not even seeing his warm breath meeting the cold winter air and unite with the fog surrounding him that he always found so interesting. If he had known that The Far West Teekon Wilderness had this kind of stupid weather, he would've gone with his sister to... wherever she may be now. It brought the boy sadness to think about it like that, but it was true. He lowered his head, now watching his lighter paws touch the ground as he walked into the unknown.

After a while of cursing to himself and his surroundings, he stopped in his tracks. He heard a sound that he either hadn't noticed until now, or that he wasn't close enough to a few moments back to hear, but it was there. It sounded like water, which was weird. He thought he was going South, but the fog must have thrown all his orientation senses away, for he knew that the sea was to the West. He cursed under his breath and turned around, only to turn around again. He paced back and forth for who knows how long before stopping in his tracks. He had no idea where he was or where the hell he was going. A whimper escaped him, loud enough for anyone to hear since the wind wasn't blowing at all, which was probably the reason for the fog in the first place. He sat down, wanting to just rest there and then until the fog would go away, until he heard a faint growl in the far distance. The hairs in the boy's neck stood up by itself and he perked his ears to see where in the name of god the sound had come from. He growled as well, as he stood up to look for any signs of life in his surroundings, but the thick fog prevented him from seeing the noisy stranger.

Sorry, it got a little long :)

That's perfectly ok! <3 Hover for translations. c:

For a guy who'd spent the days of his childhood (when he was of an appropriate age) taking part in raids — despite the protests of his mentor — and venturing without permission in the free territories around Odinn's Cove he was ashamed at how disoriented the fog had made him, though it was infamous for it's ability to destroy any seasoned traveler's internal compass. He loved travel just as much as he loved the heavens and medicines; but his utter lack of direction caused by the thick and opaque fog that hung over the Cape, heavy as he breathed it in and let it out in an expel of oxygen. Following the belief that since he had yet to run into any other living creature since he'd woken to the fog — not including the scraggly rabbit he'd taken down for breakfast — it thoroughly surprised him when he heard a soft growl, moments after he had let out his.

His steps ceased, hackles bristling along his nape and dorsal, pupils narrowing in their pools of ethereal silver as he looked about him, looking for any sign of another. Visually, this was near impossible lest he was right on top of the other — which he was not. But he was near, this conclusion drawn by the assumption that it was not Valr's own growl echoing back at him. Did sounds even echo in fog? Valr did not know and stuck to his assumption that there was another and nearby. The flame attempted to follow the origin of the mimicked growl. “hver er þar?” The flame demanded in his native tongue, the guttural words projected with the intent of reaching the stranger that he could not see.

It didn't surprise the masked boy that there would be a response. It was almost inevitable unless the stranger had no interest whatsoever in a wolf so near to him, in a fog cloud so thick you could hardly see your own muzzle. Anything could jump at you, attack you and possibly kill you if you didn't pay attention and stood your ground. The thought made him shiver. It did however surprise him that there seemed to be words hidden in the sound that was like wordless growling to his ears. It sounded like another language, one he did not speak. This made him even more scared of the fog and the thing that spoke this language, and his hackles raised along with his tail. Could this stranger, hidden by the fog, speak English?

Hello? The young boy growled loud. It wouldn't hurt to try, right? his optimism said to him, easing his mind.Show yourself. He demanded in a more softer tone than his sort-of greeting. He aloud himself to relax a little. Maybe it was just his insanity playing tricks on him.