Neverwinter Forest you're a walking overdose in a great coat

all welcome to play with my bebe

Everything comes back.
Hunger. Frustrations. The past. 
Right now Maera had a bit of the first two... though in a sense she was also paying a visit to her past.

After a whole lot of travelling, the Sveijarn was back to the forest she had during her first weeks back in the Wilds, decided to make a temporary home. She hadn't come across any other pack yet, she'd heard of the Moonspire and the Northstar Vale, both of which didn't particularly excite her. Of course, Maera knew she couldn't be a loner forever, but getting used to the idea of having a pack (aka something to rely on and that relied on you) was one Maera couldn't yet wrap around her head - she had been let down so many other times that she simply avoided situations where dissapointment was among the possible outcomes.

Maybe it'd be harder to find a pack that actually would want her, or even trust her enough to let her into their ranks. Trust was something Maera lacked but (as her actions suggested) didn't mind breaking. She also didn't mind breaking other things - like bones.

Hovering over a the limp body of small rabbit she had managed to catch just a few minutes earlier Maera began to tear her lunch apart. The sound of Maera's teeth crunching the rabbit's ribcage was as disturbing as nails scraping a blackboard. But the Sveijarn didn't mind.
She was alone, or so she thought, so she kept stuffing her face in blood and guts.

Something called him away from the mountain and he couldn't place exactly what it was. The only thing he knew was that he needed to be off the mountain - and the vision of a red woman still danced in his minds periphery. Tryphon was eager to sort this out, but he knew he had duties on the mountain. It would be a quick trip - just to some place familiar, even if it was only the scent of the sea that he chased.

Yet it was not only the vague scent of the ocean he detected as he made his course towards the forest; there was blood, and something familiar mixed in there too. A feminine scent. This made the wolf stop in his tracks. He paused in the shadows, wondering if his vision had been made manifest - and if so, what would it mean?

IM SCREAMING I DONT EVEN KNOW HOW TO REPLY SORRY BROTHER I LUV U

The fiery red of Maera's cheeks was soon stained with another type of red: blood.
She ate until there was nothing left to salvage from the corpse, and even then, Maera was not complete sated. She licked her lips, unaware of what, who, was coming her way. Ever since she had first left the Teekon Wids, when she had left her family's reign, Duskfire Glacier, there had been an emptiness inside the Sveijarn.
A void no amount of food, and no amount of objects or collections seemed to fill.

A heavy sigh escaped from the flame's lips as she began to collect herself to leave. However, when she was ready to take off in search for another place to spend the rest of the afternoon, she didn't move.
Something held her back.
Something she had no name for but anchored her to the spot.  

Suddenly, the feeling that she was being watched crept over her shoulders and Maera letting out an anxious whine, began to look around. Not knowing what she was looking for exactly but knowing there was something. 

A ghost. A voice in her head whispered as she turned to look over her shoulder and then swing her head back to the side, her search becoming more frantic.

The fire of the girl's pelt was caught in a sunbeam, and he was caught in the shadows of the trees, watching her. Much as Njal might've looked upon a young Tuwawi when they were courting - Tryphon was struck with a sense of connection that he couldn't truly identify. He was of the age where a woman, or a girl, might catch his fancy. He assumed that was all this was; a brief moment of interest. When her wild searching caused her sight to land upon him, and he could see the curve of her face properly, he saw the blood red mess across her muzzle and chest and was instantly dismayed. 

Tryphon wasn't sure if he should linger. The scent of blood did not dismay him, but the ruddy-red girl was a strange sight. He was caught between a feeling of familiarity and dread; then, as he slipped a bit closer, he was reminded of Olive holding the flowers - the way the light caught on them, made her look as if she too were covered in blood, or gasping of it. But that had been a magical moment, something that passed by and led him to the start of a new friendship. Should he be so easily frightened? No. But should he be so eager to meet someone such as this red woman, this being who came to him in a vision?

The sun creased across his silvered fur, and Tryphon realized he had indeed crept closer than intended. He wasn't in her direct line of sight, but he would be soon, and so he staccato-stepped and tried to find more cover; except in doing so, he side-swiped a sapling and caused a bit of a ruckus. Birds from the trees took flight upon realizing his presence, and he shrunk himself down a bit, ducking his golden head, while zero-ing in on the red girl's silhouette to make sure she hadn't noticed.

sorry bruther im scared :B

Oh, but she had noticed. 
With her eyes widened wildly, and her head swinging as she tried to prepare for an attack that seemed to never truly come, it was hard for Maera not to notice the crunch of leaves, the sound of footsteps, the hurried blur that was her brother trying to duck out of sight. She could smell him now, and though she did not recognize his scent for it was mixed with the ones of his pack, of his new life, she felt something tug at the bottom of her stomach.

"show yourself!" she commanded to the mysterious being, her tail raising in warning and the fur along her spine standing on end as she took a couple of steps towards what she thought was her rival - because surely you just didn't sneak up like that unless you had questionable intentions. Plus so far she had had the fortune of meeting decent wolves only (except for Trouvere jk) but she wasn't a stranger to the rumors of the sadic, bestial wolves that also made Teekon Wilds their home.

"now" she urged, a guttural growl leaving her maw as she decided on taking yet another step to breach the distance between her and the ghost. She was a warrior after all, and a Sveijarn. She held her father's combative nature in her veins and the same daring valiancy as her mother in her eyes.
She still didn't know he and her were somehow the same, and that he carried them within as well.

A voice cresendoed through the trees, filled with nervous energy. He didn't recognize the voice at all, and felt an instantaneous guilt for making the stranger worry so much, though he ought not to - Tryphon wasn't the one covered in blood, arriving within people's psyches as portents of doom. He chose to be bold though. He chose to step out of the shadows and in to her path (though she was looking wildly everywhere), and put on an air of power; Tryphon raised his head and tail dominantly as if to contest the presence of the blood-red woman (although it was just as likely he was psyching himself up for whatever he'd encounter; ghost or otherwise, he was deeply affected by this stranger's appearance and filled with his own uncertainty).

♥♥♥♥

With her lips curled back to reveal a snarl, Maera waited for the ghost to move, to crunch some more leaves underneath its feet, to break the silence, to do anything really. To her surprise and relief, he chose to obey. Slowly, like a creature that was meant to live in myths alone, he pulled himself from the shadows and into her line of sight.

He was like a vision from a dream, one that she had catalogued as nightmare after the first two months of repeating itself back when she still called the Glacier home. She did not conciously realize this, but she did feel some sort of agitation in the mouth of her stomach when he, a man that held an eerily familiar glow in his eyes, rose his tail behind him. Another whine escaped Maera betraying the sudden turmoil that her psyche was under. She lifted her tail as well, not to compete for dominance but to convey that despite the breaking of her voice, she was going to remain firmly rooted to the spot.

He did not know what to make of her. There was something tugging at his memory - a name, maybe, or just a sound - but it was not something Tryphon was willing to pursue. Not after the vision of the red woman came to him so sharply. The stranger did not back away though. She stood her ground and took on a prideful stance, which again tugged at something indeterminate. 

When she whined, he flinched. The sound made him recoil in to the dark again as if he had been struck - but really, Tryphon was just so tense that any movement could've caused the same reaction.

Again he watched her, but this time he was the ghost. A gray figment with his pale moon eyes, coasting in the murk of the wilderness, until he felt compelled to reach out again. This time he advanced without fear; his steps were swift, and as he closed the gap he took some much needed breaths of air.

Her scent - it was unremarkable. Nothing like what he'd expected (if he expected anything). The masked boy then side-stepped and began circling her like a vulture; curious, almost playful, but wary all at the same time. Who was she? And why did she come to him in a vision - if it was truly this wolf that he had seen?