Wild Berry Meadow i don't dream

AW, scout thread.

Annaliese cannot believe her eyes. Reality, yes, but even she questions herself when she stands before the Meadow. It is a stretch that remains oddly sturdy, fascinating in how bushes seem to be shook and some damaged yet otherwise untouched by the destruction surrounding nearby territories.

The red she-wolf figuratively picks her chin off the ground, trudging into a row of berry bushes. Most have been cleaned, with splatters of colors upon the ground around them. A paintball war gone wrong—bad aim, unless the opponent is the earth itself.

Annaliese huffs, wishing to reveal the magic of this nearly unscathed place. If her General wasn't so keen on adventuring beyond, this would be a good home. A prized plot nonetheless.

He'd gone away this time, well to the south where the fog devoured the landscape and stifled the finer details. A place where he could faintly smell the ash in the air from the mountains beyond, but perhaps not one as nearly foreboding as the plateau's locale seemed. Valtari could no longer smell the sea here, but there were few things he picked up on in general.

No prey here either, at least nothing that would warrant a return venture this far down the road from Rusalka's lodgings. He had at least had the fortune of encountering @Raleska to tell her his thought of going out to scout for a herd, but now it had become a solid day trip that would not end. He despised the thought of returning with no word, to land another crippling blow to a morale that was already fading.

They could soldier on, sure, but he thought of @Erzulie's children.

Not finding anything was unacceptable.

Quietly as he could muster—which for a guardian than a hunter is a laughable thing perhaps—he cut through the meadow only to catch sight of a flash of red between the bare brambles. His eyes alight, only for disappointment to rain across them when he realized it was no fox he had seen, but one of kith.

He chuffed to garner her attention.

tags are for reference, but hello!

Which is why she ought to search for signs of prey. Even if they have long left the area surrounding, those that linger would definitely do so near the Meadow—there is enough food left upon these bushes if one looks close enough. Annaliese lowers her nose, scenting the ground with her lips parting.

There is a whiff, faint and she cannot pick out what it is—

The chuff shatters her concentration. Of course, Annaliese should have sensed her company long before he kindly made himself known. Her head lifts, steel blue eyes hardening into a glare that she sends his way. Yes?

hi! :D

Her attention shattered at once, the fragmented pieces not to scatter far as her gaze rounded on him with a modicum of ire thrown in. It was hard for him not to smile like a cretin, but he was instead captivated by her eyes—of course such a vixen would have captured the brilliance of a winter's sky in her gaze.

And of course, it would match the solitary word cast his direction.

"Are you finding anything here? Things are bleak to the north."

Perhaps she had been, but he is brazen enough to attempt his hand at directly acquiring information. In spite of being charmed, Valtari was far from a charmer, and certainly less of a meandering wordsmith looking to earn good graces. But it was evident she had been searching for something and given the respectable lack of anything decent worth eating to fill a belly, it's a short process of elimination why either of them are lurking across a berry-less meadow on the cusp of winter.

The Wilds leave much to be desired, she pauses, gaze shifting over the Meadow and then to the snow colored male. So far, the Meadow only patch of hope that she’s come across since she bumped into Diaspora. Though for a different reason entirely; the whiff of a scent could have led her to something, had she not lost it.

Tell me what you have found in the north. Annaliese is curious, and perhaps if he gives her detailed enough information, she can avoid going there herself. It is debatable, however, if he is trustworthy enough to believe.

Well put—the wilds most definitely left more to be desired.

But they were also in a state of bizarre calamity that went on and on to the point where Valtari no longer pondered how long it had gone on and when it would end. It had almost become his normal, being a relative foreigner to such violent, vivid lands. He had endured earthquakes before, had seen volcanoes smoke and spew ash and lava. He had seen the sea recede and slam the coast with unbridled force.

Those were all one shot events, never one thing after another, after another, after another...

"The earth trembles daily, the trees collapse. Rocks shift and slide and crumble," he relayed after a small delay, continuing, "and the sea churns violently in the ways that I have not seen before. Our pack was displaced from the coast by it... and there is the matter of the volcano in the east as well, or so I believe. The ash in the air is but one sign of it." And perhaps it was connected to all the other things, he couldn't say. Nor did he see the harm in sharing such details either. Rusalka had not been apart of him when the coast had evicted them, but he told their story one in the same.

"One would think it an omen for such havoc to be wrought." A puff of air danced off his lips, what else could he say? "What of your travels? Do you run with others like yourself?" Probably; her coat was a myriad of scents tangled in the wind, dampened by the ever present tinge of smoke and earth and musk.

Indeed, an omen hangs heavy over the Wilds. It seems akin to a witch’s curse and she wonders who crossed such a powerful one to doom them all. Alas, she keeps such musings to her own, unwilling to admit her belief in the occult, even to a stranger who she is unlikely to meet again.

Instead, she listens carefully with the slight tilt of her head, ears consuming each drop of information—starved to know what this traveler has seen.

Your pack? She urges for more—curious to learn who this man runs with, and if they are headed for the same location that Diaspora might be.

I am headed west, over the next mountain range, she shifts her winter eyes towards it—even she wonders if it is worth risking traveling directly over the barrier. I run with a pack called Diaspora, in the Sunspire. Conditions are not good there, and similar to what you described. Tremors, trees and rocks. Dangerous.

She was more useful than he thought she would be, or perhaps he was simply better at conversation than he had been told. His gaze followed hers, to the distant reach of dark stones where the western range lied—would salvation lurk just over them? He was doubtful. Even as sturdy as those stones looked from a distance he could not help but compare them to the mountains closer to their present location, and how they had crumbled too.

"Aye, my pack—Rusalka, from the coast. The ocean pushed us inland to plateau along these mountains," he provided out of fairness. "Does your pack think the west safer then? Or is that why you're scouting, to know?" He didn't know anything more about Diaspora than she told him, and wouldn't know if she knew of Rusalka or not, but at least their experiences were relatively the same... and he was curious to know if there was an end to the madness out there.

Of course, the pack he names is unknown to Annaliese; she lacks knowledge of most, although if she knew better, she would recognize their former abode from her sister’s boytoy.

Hm, to know, really. What this man does not know will not hurt him, and she isn’t lying per se. Although I’m hopeful it is safer than this hellhole. It can only go up from here, hm? She smirks.

Perhaps she just jinxed everything, dooming the west to a huge sinkhole that would swallow the lands whole. Imagine having to explain that to your new boss.

Tell me more of Rusalka? You’re the first I’ve met from your pack.

One would hope, he wanted to mention as she spoke, but he did not know. Valtari thought more in absolutes with the growing dangers of the day to day; to not eat one day meant less stamina for the next, and then the next, and from there it would snowball to far darker thoughts. If there were to be a reprieve on the other side of those mountains and word come back to them, he wonder how much further Rusalka would go from the coast.

"We are a familial pack," he said, thinking of the children that had joined them. They must have been, though truth be told he hadn't quite learned what all they were about just yet. It had been from Erzulie he had learned of its sordid history, however briefly. The rest had come through snippets here and there, to which he added: "Or we were. Our displacement from the coast from its rising waters have separated some from us." And presumably, he thought them lost much in the way the others had.

"What of yours?" It felt necessary to ask; had they suffered too?

A typical story of a familial pack, tragically separated. Surely there must be more about this Rusalka than just that, but Annaliese is pleased to be given any information at all. This man has been… helpful. Not that she would praise him as such to his face.

We are close to each other as well, I’m sure many would describe it as familial, she says, pondering for a moment if any packs weren’t. Diaspora is nomadic in nature, however, so it was only a matter of time before we moved anyway. Nature just… gave us a little nudge. Tipping her chin skywards, she gives the male a wink.

Now that we’ve discussed the important information… I am Annaliese; what is your name?

He smiled at her words—nature would always give them a little nudge, it would seem. Though charming she may have tried to be, he found her words almost flippant in their nature, but not enough to seem untoward. He understood the nature of those who were nomadic and believed to an extent that they all were.

The world was ever full of change and as of late, it was nearly too much for them to handle. The prey had fled and yet they still clung to the region; he had little in the way of meeting faces and finding information. Eventually he liked to think one day it would pan out to something more interesting than a rough map of what their competition was doing and where.

"Valtari," he supplied. Annaliese, he could remember that. It would not have been hard to supply a pretty face to such a name either. But it was more than just beauty at play; she was shrewd and decisive, and he liked those qualities most of all.

"Have you been with your pack long?"

Valtari, she likes now “tari” rolled off her tongue—least as she repeats it in her mind. Similar in their skills, she appreciates his company, enough that she almost wishes to find out more about the sort of man he is; what lurks underneath the surface.

Hmm, not long, I joined just the other day. Annaliese careful about the decision, and perhaps she would have taken her time if she had the opportunity, but with the disasters and winter on the horizon… well, it required her to act fast.

How long have you been with yours, Valtari?

Sorry about the delay!