Nova Peak doomsday party

The Dragonling brought his kill to the borders, calling out to let @Redd and @Ruckus know its location. Cambria didn’t linger, turning and loping due east as the setting sun warmed his pale back. He probably should’ve found out about the summons earlier, though what he needed most now that he’d fed his charges was to find someplace where he could sit quietly and let his thoughts run amok.

He wound up at @Riley’s makeshift grave, not that he knew the wolf interred in the burrow. Sighing through his nostrils, the yearling stretched out on the sun-baked rock and closed his eyes. No sooner had he settled down and unlocked the door on his thoughts—he had a lot to process—than his own hunger announced itself with a loud gurgle.

Cambria’s mismatched eyes snapped open and he looked around at the darkling peak. Perhaps he could find a rodent scurrying about in the nearby rocks. He heaved himself back onto all fours, pausing to paw at an itch on his bristly chin before setting off along a nearby footpath.

Everyone would always have hunger in common.

It was what had bid her to keep on her march. Through a tangle of trees she had walked, through shifting lands she had weaved. If the peak did not have good hunting then it might offer a good view from a high path, if she could make it so high.

Only someone else seemed to be present — which meant she might have done best to scuttle along elsewhere.

Instead she opted to announce her presence. The sound that she did so with might have been questionable.

A nasally snorting that sounded like she might have been prepared to loosen a loogie.

A peculiar sound prompted Cambria to slow his step, then stop. His ears quivered as he listened, eyes combing the gloomy air. His nose twitched too, searching for any olfactory clues, though the air barely stirred on this breathless evening. He caught nothing of note.

But then his eyes happened to raise slightly to an outcropping above him, where the last vestiges of sunlight caught on pale patches of what looked like fur. It took Cambria a solid fifteen seconds to make sense of what he was seeing: the shape of a fellow canine, with some sandy golds in her coat that stood out when the rest of her pelt blended almost eerily with the falling night.

He stared for several beats, trying to get the measure of this stranger. He sensed that she was huge, though his limited senses of sight and smell did not offer much further guidance. Cambria would have to resort to using his tongue. (No, he would not taste the unfamiliar she-wolf with it.)

Hello, he began, taking a tentative step forward on his lower shelf of rock, I’m Cambria.

Before he bothered saying anything else, he waved his tail once to indicate his friendly intent. Then Cambria waited, body tense and eyes watchful, for an introduction or any other indication of her own nature.

Masculine.

Friendly.

These were things that were important to note. It also allowed her to have a sense of confidence in approaching a bit closer, to bleed free from the shadows that might have swallowed her whole if she allowed it.

Bracken, She offered her name and followed it with her own once waving tail. However she wanted to know more about him besides his name and social kindness.

Which meant she stuck out her neck as far as it might go and noisily sniffed the air between them. Somehow that seemed kinder to her than cramping his personal bubble.

She offered a name, then sniffed at the air in between them in a clear quest for further information. Cambria blinked, then began searching for a good spot to ascend to her level. It took a moment for him to find a place with any purchase, after which he hoisted himself onto the same outcropping where she stood. He loitered perhaps two yards away.

It was easier to see her up close (relatively speaking), as well as note the difference in size. It wasn’t often he met she-wolves larger than him. Cambria found it slightly intimidating and his muscles remained a little stiff for it. He supposed it wasn’t so much about sex but rather sheer size. She was both taller and heavier, despite her trim figure.

What brings you here, Bracken? he wondered, words floating softly on the gloomy air. Before she could even reply, he mused, You’re not the first wolf I’ve met here, not even the second. I wonder what it is about this place that invites so much foot traffic, and tilted his head as if she might have a theory to share.

it's a good stop.

her tail waved valiantly behind her.

higher points offer longer lookout. might also offer good hunting. her features were warming now as if a hot spring had taken up residence where a heart should be. what do you say? hunting good here? she could only assume that if he had stayed here long enough to meet many, then he might know a thing or two about the land itself.

apologies for the wait! i dont mind making this a quick one if you're wanting to wrap up his last threads <3

No worries, though thank you for the consideration! This will be his last post. :)

Bracken mentioned the advantages of a heightened vantage point, prompting Cambria to glance sideways as if to acknowledge this fact. His eyes quickly found their way back to her face when she talked of hunting. His stomach pinched at the thought of meat.

Hunting’s good anywhere, as long as you adapt to whatever prey lives where you’re looking, he replied with good humor. I’m sure there’s plenty of small game in all these nooks and crannies, though I have to admit I haven’t spent much time getting familiar with the terrain here.

That was why he was thinking of heading to the grassland below to fetch some supper instead. He could’ve invited her to accompany him, though Cambria hesitated. He really just wanted to grab something quickly, then return here to stew in his thoughts. He just wasn’t in the mood for companionship right now, not when all he wanted to do was sit quietly with his thoughts.

I bet you’ll have no trouble rummaging up something to eat here, he said. I’d offer to join you, but I have other things I need to tend to, Cambria continued in the next breath, a touch of regret in his voice even as he lifted a paw in imminent departure. Happy hunting, Bracken.

she liked him and his humor! even if his advice was vague, it was the best kind one could hope for. reality served on a warm voice.

safe travels, cambria.

perhaps her lookout would be watching his figure disappear into places she would not follow. maybe something worth hunting would rummage her attention away from him.

she would think of him fondly, even if briefly.