Sequoia Coast come back! even as a shadow, even as a dream.

emaleth had told her not to follow, deirdre knew--but it had been two days. two days without her father. two days without her other half. had she meant to leave her, forever? deirdre did not understand it, and so for the day departed donnelaith. she did not wish to leave the sentinels at all, but her devotion to emaleth brought her to seek her out once more, to find her and clarify this query. the days were full of plague, plague, plague. the destruction was far reaching. they threatened, now, to eat her whole heart.

the organ proved too big. though she was full of misery, light sought to infiltrate the darkness that took her. it was love that drove her still. love for emaleth. love for her father. love for eilidh, casmir, constantine. love for her mother. love for donnelaith. she resented that she breathed as her father did not, but all of her fathers efforts were to ensure that she did survive this infestation of insects--she would not dishonor that wish. nor would she dishonor him, in trying to bring him back from The Otherside; she knew what he thought of this, knew he thought it an evil and terrible thing, and so--though she thought on it--kept away from the body and the grave to avoid temptation.

she was tortured. and yet, her loveliness did not change; she still appeared radiant and grand. even as she trudged, there was no denying her quiet dignity, her pretty features. deirdre quietly wept as she moved, tired, so tired... and yet, she followed her wisps, the things that led her. surely they would take her to emaleth, and then she could return home.

That trip was to be his last to the coast in search of kelp and weeds that he could keep inside of his den. He had done well to stock up on medicinal supplies. With the trees returning to life and the foliage breaking new buds into the world, the coywolf was certain that he would not have to seek the waters of the sea for quite some time. There was a large cache of herbs that grew quite close to the dragon territory and he would be able to gather what he needed from there. Still, one last trek to the shore would do him well. Glu had found himself in a comfortable niche inside of the ranks of the Sleeping Dragon pack. He liked the Heda and though she was a stoic and oftentimes strange woman, he could follow under her rule without issue.
 
Long legs carried the wisp of a creature along the shoreline. His narrow muzzle was pointed low to the sands so that he would be able to draw the scents in much easier. Sharp canary eyes suddenly caught hold of a beautiful specimen who seemed to be quite distraught. His dark lips curled somewhat into a ghastly little grin and he scuttled toward the pale woman who was wandering alone.
 
When the distance had been closed somewhat, the cadaverous coywolf announced himself with a yip and drew his ears forward atop his skull. “Why are you crying, beautiful girl?” he inquired with a predatory glance at her fine features. He had not seen a woman so striking before; Glu was curious how she had grown into such a work of art. So curious, in fact, that he was beginning to wonder if he would be able to take her back to his den for further examination.

deirdre moved, though was so invested in her sadness that she scarcely heard the others approach. it was the yip that brought her to attention, and she blinked her thick lashes to press away the tears and managed to stifle a sob that had threatened to break free from her throat. the other spoke to her, and sensing no harm in admitting to him the simplest of explanations she did just that. i have lost someone very dear to me--and another piece of my heart has gone astray. i am searching for her--o! perhaps you have seen her! she is lovely, with one eye the green you would find in the living forests and the other the blue of the sea. she is darker than the night sky, but her presence... it is light, she breathed, and went on to finish--her name is emaleth.

The pearl spoke to him of another woman; an inky creature with mismatching eyes. He furrowed his brows a bit and frowned at the description of this stranger. With a quick thought, the coywolf male looked to her with beaming eyes and a wide, pointed grin. “I have seen your Emaleth,” he lied openly to the pale female. His words were followed by a solemn nod of his skull. “She’s not well. I took her to my pack to tend to her,” he lied again. The green-eyed beauty that he saw before him was far too distraught to know that Glu had never seen Emaleth… that he was trying to pull her away from the sea and towards the rocky lands of the dragon territory.
 
His grin seemed to stretch across his face as he peered to her curiously. “You’ll come with me to retrieve her, yes?” a hopeful question dropped from his lips and his eyes remained latched to her lovely face. It would be nice to have her forever.

deirdre listened to him, her heart lifting as he spoke of emaleth. but that she was not well did come as a surprise to her, and she frowned--maintaining her loveliness, as nothing could seem to mar her pretty features--at that. a part of her felt that she would know for certain if her emaleth was in danger, that she would feel it in the core of her being. there was another part that worried that she had not been heeding much of anything, since her father had passed--perhaps she had felt something and ignored it, selfishly so! she looked over her shoulder, debating this, quiet for the moment as she contemplated. he could see her helenistic profile, then, as she looked to the sea. she listened to the distant trees for an answer in what to do. she mulled for long minutes; she remembered peregrine, and how donnelaith had aided him, but this man smelled of nothing she knew.

The woman did not say anything to him after he had so intricately described the location of her Emaleth. He furrowed his brows a bit and frowned at her, following her gaze out across the waters and towards the trees that surrounded them. Glu knew that it was unlikely that he would be able to get her to follow him all the way back to the Sleeping Dragon’s land. Her silence spoke more than he would have imagined. It was dangerous to be wandering the beachside without anyone else. His sharp citrine gaze sought to find anyone who might have found themselves there, but he only saw the pale woman at his side. While he was not a large creature, he was quite precocious in battle.
 
Without warning, the skeletal coywolf reared back and sank his teeth into her scruff, tugging the girl down into the sands. His legs held stiff and he yanked backwards, hoping that he would be able to shake her enough so that she would go limp in his grasp.

she turned back to him to concede, but he came for her in an instant. deirdre prepared to lay and go prostrate, but he had gripped her scruff, pummeled her down in an instant. deirdre let out a high-pitched whine of confoundment; what had she done? what could she do? never had any come against her in such a way, and she fell to her side to reveal to him her belly apologetically, her eyes wide, her lips parted as she let out many more frantic sounds as she sought to scramble away from him while appealing to the nature of a wolf, tail curling and ears flattened. please-- she choked out, and then he was upon her, shaking her, and deirdre pathetically sought to turn and fight him away and off of her. but she was tired, hungry, exhausted--she felt the imminent failure. for no magic could save her here, though the spirits watched. proof of it--the darkening sky and the blustery winds as she cried for his mercy, as she yelled for him to release her when she saw there would be none.

The pearl fought against him with cries of fear and confusion. The coywolf male held tight to his grasp on her scruff, digging his needle-like fangs into the flesh of her neck. If he could gather a good enough grasp, he might have been able to drag her through the sands and decide what to do with her later. Certainly, the pale woman would make a fine specimen to keep inside his den. It would provide him with someone to practice his medicine on. She was beautiful and would provide him with a pleasant view if he should have to wake up to her corpse inside of his home. The thought was enough to fuel him, and he twisted his skull a bit, trying to force the air out of her so that she would faint.

it was useless, useless! and as he pressed against her, as his grip tightened, she began to see stars. through these stars, she saw the bloodied lips of her father; she saw thorns, reddened and dripping. once he had saved her. da-- she choked the word, gasped, lids heavy. lasher was no more, who could save her? who could hear her? foolish, to go so far from home when so weak. he was as hungry as she, surely--did he seek to devour her? thunder rolled overhead, now, as forked lightning came from the high heavens. she couldn't breathe, she couldn't breathe! and she thrashed futilely against him. was this dying? was this death? it burned--it burned like fire! and she summoned it, invoked flame as another tongue of lightning lashed against a stray tree near to them on the sands, igniting it.

The wraith had spent most of his time trailing the beachside in hopes that he might find the perfect land to lay claim. His wounds had healed well and he was not impaired by the injury that had plagued him. For this, he was grateful to the ivory female who had come to his aide. He could not help but to think again on their swim in the ocean water and how new it had been for the emerald-eyed witch. Skellige knew that he could rule if he could show her the true way to live with the sea. And try as he might, he could not drive the pale woman from his mind. It was so overwhelming that he could almost hear her cry against the wind.
 
But it was her cry; his dark gaze caught sight of something that filled his gut with rage. A slender halfling had somehow gripped tightly to the form of the white witch. Fur bristling, the inky wraith tore through the sands, kicking up granules as he plowed toward the two figures. Lightning cracked and struck the tree nearby, but he paid it no mind. Fire fueled his gut as he lunged towards the attacker and gripped fast to the smaller wolf’s tail. Without restraint, Skellige sank his fangs into the bone of the coywolf’s tassel and ripped it clean from the creature’s body. A guttural growl came from within his chest and he spat the limp tassel into the sands. A hurricane was brewing in his gut.

Something sharp found its way into Glu’s tail. He immediately released his grip on the pearl’s scruff and parted his jaws in a cry of pain and surprise. Wildly, his yellow gaze shot to the dark wolf behind him and he felt fear grip his heart. Nothing remained of his tail except for the length of it that was clasped in the inky brute’s jaws. The skeletal coywolf parted his mouth and hissed in outcry to this great beast that had appeared from nowhere. The storm that surrounded them was picking up, and for a fraction of a second, the witch doctor thought that there was magic afoot. Pinning his long ears back to his skull, he took one last glance at the pale woman and wondered if it was at all possible to use the dark wolf’s strength against him.
 
There was a primal fury in the strange male’s eyes. Something that Gluskap would have been able to survive if he had decided to turn and fight for the right to steal away the pearl. Watching as his tail thumped into the sand beside them, the coywolf turned his body towards his home and darted away through the sands; his blood would leave a short trail before he disappeared altogether.

she felt the warmth of the flames as they sought gluskap, but he released for a reason other than this. she sucked in a deep breath and gasped at the dry feeling of it, coughing and sputtering as the smoke grew thick around her. her vision was blurred as she lay on the sand, and she was sore by the others grasp and shaking of her. she did not see who had rescued her, yet, nor was she truly aware she had been rescued--only now was she coming to awareness again. the weepy eyed druid felt in utter anguish, and as she let out a fierce sound that came from all the agony she had endured, the sky parted and a great bout of rain came from a dark cloud overhead. it would soon extinguish the flames that had come, and it sought to soothe her, too. the spirits themselves rallied beside her in this way: we are with you still. she understood, was grateful...

and then she looked up. through the rain she saw him, and she struggled to rise, to move to him. but it seemed her fatigue would not yet enable her to move, and she crumpled gracefully to the earth though her eyes had never left him.

The anger did not subside, even as the slender coywolf stranger disappeared down the coast and out of sight. Skellige could feel his limbs tremble with the fury that coursed through his body. His dark eyes sought the abysmal creature, wanting him to return so that he might finish ripping his limbs away from his torso. So filled with internal rage that he could scarcely see the images that were unfolding in front of him. The pale woman at his feet seemed to be in a mess. Though the skeletal little halfling no longer remained, her form was slumped into the sand with a pitiful expression on her face.
 
When she looked up to him, he could see the pain that shone in her emerald gaze. She attempted to gather herself and rise to her feet, but ended crumpled back into the sands. Rain pelted against his face and body, and the dark beast lowered himself so that he was beside her. His thick frame was pressed against her smaller form and his face was stern – angry even – but nevertheless there for her.

she felt so weak, but yearned to be strong. strong like him, stalwart like him, certain and sure and powerful like him! as the spirits exhausted themselves, the pelting rain soon came to a drizzle, and in that drizzle deirdre tried to mimic his features. but it was a paltry guise--her pretty features remained soft and sweet and cherubic, and she could not set her jaw as he did, not when it trembled.

when she opened her mouth to speak, she found only a sob rose. she swallowed it whole, and realizing she did not wish for him to see her this way, feeling the hot flush of shame come upon her, she looked away from him. the drizzle did a fine job of disguising her lupine tears, though her distress was far from invisible.

The wraith watched her with an intense gaze as she tried to steady herself. He watched the sharp clenching of her jaw and then the trembling that followed. He watched as she was filled with shame and turned her skull away from him so that he would not see her sobs, though they wracked her body with shudders. His dark lips were curled downward in a frown. The fur along his neck and shoulders still stood rigid, and the fire in his gaze had not died away. There was a burning bile in the back of his throat, and he could not allow himself to speak. He knew that if he were open his mouth nothing but hatred would fall from it. It was not what she needed in this time.
 
She would not face him and he became frustrated by this. With a quiet huff, the black monster placed his head against her back and breathed. Skellige had never been one for physical comfort, but he knew that this girl was hurting and she was in need… though he did not understand why an attack from a stranger would have damaged her so.

it was only his touch that caused her body to cease in its shaking. it was soothing, and it was warm, and deirdre at last turned into him to nestle her muzzle into the thick furs of his chest. she hid away there for long minutes; the scent of him, and the sound and feel of his breathing, was what calmed her. her neck stung, and as she relaxed he would see the superficial wounds dealt there. the injuries would not scar her, phyiscally.

when the rain itself receded, she withdrew and looked to his molten mahogany eyes. my father died, she told him, and my sister--she left. she did not tell me where she was going, i went to search... perhaps she should not admit this, to a stranger. but her heart had a great amount of something for the man that compelled her to tell him this. defeatedly, tiredly, she let her head fall to her forepaws. weak. i want to be strong. but i am tired. i am beaten.

The moment that she turned and her muzzle nestled into the fur of his chest, the dark brute breathed out a heavy sigh. He glanced down and noted the small marks on the nape of her neck from the attack; they would heal without scar. The peaceful little woman would not be tarnished by the acts of a stranger. Still, the markings there were enough to rile his gut once more and fuel him into a blindness. It wasn’t enough that he could not place the emotions that this woman gave him. It wasn’t enough that he had been banished from his rightful throne on Warsaw and forced to dwell in the wilds. He had no kingdom, and a sad woman at his feet. Skellige could not even comfort her the way she deserved.
 
After a few moments, she seemed to have found the courage to speak once more. He listened as she recounted her father’s death and the disappearance of her sibling. The frown remained intact on his face and his eyes held her own. She wanted to be strong, she stated. As he looked into her gaze, he could see a tragedy there, and he could not help himself for caring. “You cannot be strong without trials,” he spoke in a rumbling voice, very much like the thunder overhead. Realizing that the talks his father had given him when he was younger were not appropriate for the time, he sighed again and placed his muzzle atop her skull. “Just rest for now.”

his words were sound, and her heart agreed with them. though she was weary she took them to mind, and would think on them. you are strong, she stated, and she wondered briefly the sort of trials he had endured to be such a way. the gentle princess reached forward and moved to kiss his cheek gently, the gesture not at all absent in affection. she had no qualms in showing her thanks, and had never been taught that such displays might be wrong. you saved me--you did not have to do that. thank you, well-mannered even at the worst of times, she smiled tiredly, her beauty not at all diminished even as she lay alongside him as a soaked dog. she lowered her head and again snaked her muzzle into the thick furs of his chest. it was not at all difficult for her close her eyes, to doze as she had not been able to do since her father had gone from this world and her sister had left her side.

The woman spoke to him with a strange reverence. As her eyes flitted across his face, he looked to her with a small sense of bewilderment. His eyes were sharp and when she told him that he was strong, he felt himself grow very tired. Skellige had fought every day of his life; he had worked harder than any of his siblings had worked, and he had been beaten down many times. What had it all been for? So that he could find himself stranded on an open beach with a soft-voiced woman who looked at him as though the stars shone from his eyes. No… he was a brutal figure but there were times where he was not strong. When she leaned in to kiss his cheek, the wraith closed his eyes for a moment and simply allowed the air to flow through his lungs.
 
The woman then went on to state that he did not have to save her, and she breathed a thanks to him for doing so. He furrowed his brows a bit and thought on that. No, he was not obligated to this girl at all. He was not forced to throw himself on the strange attacker and chase him from her presence… but he had. And though she was calmer and had found some sort of peace in dozing beside him, Skellige could not understand why he had done it.

he said nothing, but he had no need to. her doze soon turned to legitimate sleep, and she breathed him deeply whilst subconsciously nestling closer. she had trusted no other but tachyon this way, but skellige had equally earned such a thing by now. she sighed into him, this beastly man, her bodies movements falling to the rhythm of slumber.

As her breathing become slower and the rising and falling of her chest was steady, Skellige allowed himself to feel the emotions that were burning inside him. The anger and frustration as well as the mingling droplets of love. He did not sleep with her, but instead took on the form of a watchful sentinel over her resting figure. His gaze traveled the waters of the ocean while she dreamed, and after some time he found himself calming to the lapping of the water against the sands. The drizzling rain had ceased and his pelt was beginning to dry again. All terrible things would come to an end.