Blackfeather Woods i'm looking for a saw to cut these chains in half and all i want is

a formless grey cloud had settled over the flatlands, lingering the oppressive way a tyrant was inclined to do. in the air a stillness had settled, the first sign that snow would soon blow from the rippling curtain of silvery shrouding overhead.

the girl drew a sigh. snow muffled much of the world, and made hunting difficult. watching the menace of clouds shift and part, the girl worked a bone between her jaws, lost in thought and wishing against anything that she might see her mother again.

She comes bearing fresh herbs for her sister's grave, but it seems that this is not the same woods she departed before. The scents along the border are now stale, the ever-present sentry ostensibly gone. What has happened here to make them all flee?

With cautious but determined steps, Megara travels deeper into the forest, looking for any signs of a memorial. She has come all this way; she will not turn back because the door lays ajar. If Meldresi was as important to this forest as indicated, surely her grave will be easy to find? Place the herbs, say a prayer, go home.

But instead of coming across Meldresi, she comes across her miniature instead.

Well, not miniature. This girl is near-grown, a far cry from the pup she once was—but has a long way yet to develop, too. In contrast to Megara's old age, she is a veritable infant. She sets down the plants and gives a soft chuff to the girl, gnawing on the bone. The rogue stares at her in some wonder, taking in the dark pelt, the indigo eyes.

Hello, dear, she murmurs, her voice like silk but coarser. Mephala be with you. Megara wonders if she has been taught the ways of the daedra. She fervently hopes the girl has.

despite it being weeks since relmyna's death, astara still hoped every tread she heard in the forest might be the steps of her mother, returned to her -- as if the days she had endured were all just a cruel dream finally dispelled.

it was not her mother, but a woman older and far darker. for all her age, astara felt a pang of sorrow lance her - this woman was clearly advanced beyond the age of her dam, but she was alive and relmyna was dead -- why?

she set the bone aside, her ears canted and her full attention on the crone. the cordial greeting was not returned; while it was not out of rudeness, megara would likely be hard pressed to detect the girl was mute. she glanced from the plants to the withered face of elder, and again was reminded of the injustice of the world. her muzzle dipped in return to the woman's salutations, but no words followed.

A girl without many words, apparently. Megara stares down upon her for a moment, unsure of how to reply to, well, no reply. She settles down on her haunches with a small groan, placing her paws neatly in front of her. The forest is very quiet, and very still. It is like only they exist in the world, no one else.

I am looking for my sister, Meldresi—well, her grave, the rogue clarifies, giving a lopsided smile. She is buried here. Do you happen to know where that is? Or anyone who can direct me there?

Judging by the deserted border, she has little hope of meeting another soul here. But then, she had found the girl. Who knows who else is hiding within these trees?

astara, unfortunately, did not know where meldresi's grave was. in time she may have learned all there was about the history of their forest, but relmyna's untimely death had abruptly curtailed much of what the girl would ever learn of her homestead. her gaze fell. she would not be able to help megara, but she knew someone who would...

ever so briefly, her gaze sought megara's own before she turned and made for the thicket. if megara followed, she would soon find astara heading towards the sacred altar. it was here that relmyna's soul was arguably most present -- she motioned towards the hipbone that cradled relmyna's seeing-stone, and then fell back in silence.

The girl moves away, and Megara has no choice but to follow her. Well, she supposes she doesn't have to. But this is not her home, and it is clearly that of the young Melonii's; it would be rude of her not to tag along, right? She moves nimbly through the brush, trailing along until they come across a place that screams Meldresi.

Complete with a pelvic bone atop an altar, which makes her pause for a long moment before approaching.

This is not her area of expertise; she's a spy, not a priestess like her sister. Still, she looks at the girl with her brows knitted in question, same-colored eyes boring into that fathomless gaze. What is this? she asks, softly but undoubtedly firm. The girl will give her answers; there's no way around it. Is this. . .

She glances toward the ivory arch, then back to the miniature Meldresi, lips tightening in a troubled frown. Is this the remains of my sister? Megara asks, feeling as though something very dark is looming o'er them both.

astara had hoped once the crone saw the altar for herself, she might glean all that had transpired her. unfortunately, astara's hopes were vain - not all wolves possessed the same spirituality that averna and relmyna had.

again the name meldresi was spoken - astara's ears fluttered at the name, which carried with it an unusual gravitas. she shook her head forlornly, but placed a paw on the bone as if to say not meldresi's, but someone else.

Who else but Meldresi merited this kind of shrine? Megara blinks, a little astonished, at the girl as she shakes her head. Where is my sister? she asks, more firmly than before. I have but one errand here, child, and then I must return home. Why have you brought me here?

Had she been more spiritually inclined, she might have seen the reasoning behind Astara's mysterious ways. As it was, Megara only knows that a young woman has led her to this solemn place and that it is not what she seeks. She is impatient; she hates waiting. She will not wait for much longer.

unfortunately for megara, relmyna had never inferred to astara meldresi's spiritual weight in this place. megara's loss of patience, and her insistence earned her a flat stare from the night cub.

perhaps averna would have been more use to the dark witch than this nameless and wordless wretch. astara nosed the seeing stone once, but did not linger -- she did not know where meldresi was, or what purpose megara had in these dark woods.

Still no response—and then the girl flees without a word, retreating into the trees. Megara gazes coldly after her, then dips her nose with a small, irritated exhale.

She goes another direction, following any scent trail she can. Surely someone here knows of the whereabouts of her sister's grave?