Hoshor Plains can you help me unravel my latest mistake

oh, no. 

bile rises in her throat as suddenly, violently, things click into place. the mountains that reach up like great fangs in the distance, the play of the air on her coat; it is all so familiar. she pauses, tail curling close as her orientation suddenly returns. the familiar weight around her neck is gone, and all the security that she'd only just found again. 

the wolfdog pivots, suddenly exposed on these plains. she'd not meant to ever come back, certainly not now, when that sting of abandonment was still fresh. it had become clear to her that the world she'd sought all those months ago could not be hers any longer, but to be here was a twisted sort of irony. she turns her back on the mountains, heading south with dogged determination, now. she simply won't cross them, ever again; avoiding the valley seems the only thing the sylph can control just now.

There was something lovely about total destruction. Sure, it could be tragic. It could be awful, all-consuming and vicious, relentless and unmerciful. It could tear at one's heartstrings until they were threads and leave them feeling bare and exposed to the touch of the unknown. But it could also be renewing. It could cleanse the slate, wipe clean all previous blemishes and create space for all that was to come next. It could steal one's familiarity and thrust them into freedom, challenging them to make something out of nothing, challenging them to become...to become.
Aleister's destruction was lovely. 

He'd been whittled down 'till not a bone in his body could take withstand another moment, no matter how fleeting, of the knowing. He couldn't take the familiarity and the stability- the static life he had grown and plateaued into. So he had left. He had totally destroyed his connection to all familarity, and had gone. And the destruction had been stunning. It had stolen the breath from his lungs and blown it right back into him, given him a new will to become. And here he is, becoming. 

Well, on his way to becoming, at least. If he wants to become he's gonna have to get past these damn plains. But they stretch and stretch as long as the eye can see, a vast sea of grass and sky and he's not so sure he'll ever make it past them. The alabaster boy continues in his slow trot, slim legs carrying him through the open fields as his eyes continue to rake over the land. It hits him in that moment that even this view, which seems to replicate itself every few strides, could not possibly be as monotonous as his life had felt before he left. A new appreciation blooms in the boy and just as he begins to follow the train of thought, the view is no longer dull.

His keen eyes fixate on the foreign motion immediately, his own coming to a swift stop. It's a...a something. A medium-sized figure, cloaked in oak tones and pacing in the opposite direction of Aleister. They're far enough away that he supposes he'd be able to make it out in time should they be hostile, and that fact is enough to make up his mind. The pale boy turns to face fully the direction of the other, and chuffs softly, at a stop but prepared to make a run for it should things get out of hand.

Sorry this got so long! It's his introductory post so I figured I had to add a little something to it<3

there is familiarity in being back here. in the open, the wandering. she will always love the blue stretch of the sky, the scent of summer in her nares and the taste of water that has flowed over places like this for hundreds of miles. but the wonder, the possibility for something new and good at the edge of every horizon, has faded.

and so when the sound of another has her still, her tail sweeps to slick over her rear. just as the boy is, she is light on her toes, prepared to run just as quickly in the opposite direction. with the absence of her limb, however, it's something she'd like to avoid.

ghost-like, the stranger hovers in the middling distance. for a moment, she is still, and then her tail offers a tentative wag when he does not shift to become a threat. there is something almost familiar about the softness that dulls his silhouette, and after a moment she is almost sure of it. "are you a dog, too?" she calls, voice carrying not quite as far as she'd intended.

It is in the few moments that slip between Aleister's call and the reaction of the stranger that the palid boy finds himself doubting every action he's now taken. His throat begins to tighten as the figure turns, and though they don't seem to be hostile, his pelt crawls with the notion of a threat. He had wanted a release from normality and here he had attained it, but it only hits Aleister in this second that perhaps he'll have to take the feeling bare and exposed along with the feeling new and free. And that's okay he can...he can deal with that, but. But how the fuck was he supposed to communicate with...anyone? They'd had a system. They'd had a system, and an undying routine that kept Aleister safe and allowed him to ask for the things he needed when he needed them, and though it had borne dread into his soul at the idea of living his life out that way, it had been his saftey net.

No more saftey net.

He contemplates running. Just...turning tail and fleeing and making a fool of himself because it's unlikely he'll ever see the other again if he can get lost enough in these plains. But there's a pull in his chest that stops him. Something dragging at him from the inside that already seems to have made his mind up. He's gonna have to start his becoming somewhere, and he doubts that'll ever happen if he runs away from the bare and exposed part. He's just gonna have to embrace it, sick to the stomach as it may make him feel.

The...girl, he thinks, opens her maw to address him, and the deafening silence that spills out rushes over the young man like ice water. It's easy to be in the quiet when he's alone, when he can pretend that it's normal, that it's just awfully hushed where he happens to be. When he knows he's missing a part of his own experience, lost somewhere in an abyss where he'll never be able to truly regain it, the story is a little bit different. He inhales, sharp, and blinks slowly, trying to keep some semblance of calm in his posture as he delicately raises a paw forward, taking a slow step whilst keeping his body bent submissively. There is a question posed in his movements, and he won't hesistate to stop should the answer be negative, but the boy is unsure of how they'll make any progress if he doesn't advance. Adrenaline is still coursing through him and he can feel his heartbeat quicken, but the deeper tug gives him an odd sort of certainty that he's making a right move. He cocks his head, blinking owlishly at the other before awaiting her response.