Jade Fern Grove Fractals

When she slept, dreams were rare.  There was just this period of blankness then her eyes opened.  Nothing special.  This morning was no exception.  She woke up from where she'd curled herself up at the base of a tree, stood up, shook off the bit of snow that had collected on her pelt, and continued worming her way through the land, heading south towards who knew what.

So far, she hadn't been terribly impressed.  But then again, Treason was Treason, and impressing her was more of a miracle along the lines of walking on water.  There was still a lot of land to wander through, however.  Perhaps something would eventually strike her fancy, however unlikely.  Or maybe some wolf would prove themselves more interesting than a rock.  Ha.  Also unlikely.

As she wandered, she stopped on occasion to investigate for edible things.  The first scent of a hare she came across was too old to bother with, but there was some other rodent traffic that seemed hopeful.  Maybe she'd at least get some breakfast out of this.

Life in the Valley, he had to admit, was a bit dull. His natural wanderlust always overcame any inclination to stay in one place, and so, today, he headed north, looking to run into something or someone interesting. Life on the road had spoiled him.

He was still getting used to this whole "awake in the day" thing. It had once been his modus operandi, but since joining the tribe, he hadn't spent more than a handful of waking moments under the sun. He was a child of the moon; blanketed in its light was where he belonged.

Still, it wasn't too bright of a day, and the green shadows of this forest made it even more manageable to have risen with Iliana's break over the horizon. The scent of someone close by caught his nose, and he looked round, eventually finding an interesting-looking woman, cyan eyes bright as jewels in the forest light.

She was far bigger and taller than him, and he wagged his tail nervously as he approached. "Good day," the priest greeted, his curious gaze regarding her. "Hope I'm not disturbing you."

The trail kept wandering around and not ending somewhere that translated into being food.  It was rather unfortunate.  How much farther would she have to wander to get the vole at the end of the rainbow?  Annoying.  Winter was annoying.  Despite the fact it was much easier for her to hide in the icier parts of the year, that didn't mean she had to like it.

Maybe she should just try a different trail.  Yes. That was the thing to do.  Her lips drew back for a moment in irritation before Treason turned away from the scent.  That was when her gaze locked on to the approaching white wolf in a swift, predatory motion.  

Treason's first thought was that this wolf was somehow younger than her solely due to his size, but that was quickly eliminated, as why would such a youngster be out and wandering around?  They wouldn't, if they were smart. Only if you've scared the food.  There was a subtle shift in her expression to be more inquisitive, but it didn't seem to lose its edge. That seemed to be all she was going to say -- Treason was not a wordy wolf, so she waited on him.

He saw her take in his diminuitive size, and chuckled to himself. "I'm too small to be any sort of fright to the stray rabbit or squirrel," he said, tone markedly amused. Phocion flicked an ear. "In fact, I'm so close to their size that they start to trust me. Easier to hunt them, then."

All facetious, of course, but how long had it been since he had joked this way? The humor wasn't marked with the childish nature of his youth; it had instead matured into a warm, easy-going nature, just bordering--but not quite touching--sarcasm.

His black nose twitched as he inhaled deeply. A hare here, a vole there. Twitching his tail, he remarked, "There's game nearby. I suppose the hunt is on, then?"

What he said didn't make particular sense.  Wouldn't him being smaller make him more of a danger to small prey, since it wasn't likely he'd go take down a huge deer by himself?  To her, it was like he didn't quite finish the joke -- or at least not in a way she approved of.  She frowned.  Ah, the lady of doom and gloom herself.

Whatever.  It was unimportant.  Her attention drifted back to the ground, nostrils flaring for a moment before her attention snapped back to him,  And I'm not splitting a tiny damn rodent or whatever.  That'd be stupid.  Treason did want to make that clear.  Finding a vole or mouse or something seemed far more likely to her than finding a hare or a conveniently dead deer.  And if he demanded otherwise, she had zero qualms fighting for whatever she killed.

Honestly she was more concerned the guy was gonna start following her around like a lost puppy, babbling on and being obnoxious.  What did he actually want?  Was he just really desperate for company?

One ear flicked as annoyance surged up in him, but the priest was quick to choke it back. He had never taken kindly to rudeness, though he was much better at handling it now than he was as a youth. Here he was, being friendly, and trying to help, and she--well. Phocion supposed it was the dead of winter, and everyone was on edge.

"I wouldn't ask you to," he responded coolly, leveling his gaze with hers. "Whatever you kill is yours." His tail shook in a single, succinct wag. "I'll even stay off your trail. Hunt on my own. If I take down something big, you can share."

She was alone. He knew this by her scent, devoid of the mixed pack-smells that marked the pelts of his Bearclaw compatriots and the wolves of Easthollow. She had been alone for some time, too. Phocion didn't pity her, exactly. But he knew what it was to be alone, and hungry, without help. Bearclaw's caches were fairly adequately stocked; even if he came home empty-handed, it wouldn't a total disaster. But for this lone woman? A catch was essential.

He trotted off to the side, watching her from the corner of his eye while his nostrils flared, trying to pick up different smells, different scents. He hoped he could find something larger than a snack; he would feel bad, eating while this woman went without.

Rolled a digital d20 with 15+ pass, got 17 :P

There were certain scenarios in which Treason was unflappable -- most of them involved rude people -- perhaps even to a point where she might just laugh at them.  She pretty much assumed everyone else was the same way, and perhaps from an innate lack of perspective on these things, hadn't even thought there was even a hint of a problem.  She hadn't even noticed.  Food was much more interesting.

She curled away from both paths that had brought the pair to this point, investigating the untrodden snow where things might be more promising -- or perhaps just less warned that hungry mouths were after it. She occasionally glanced back to the pack wolf, not really seeming to trust him at all, but that was perhaps a fair point, considering.  She didn't know how far they were to wherever he lived, but she wasn't going to cross off the option of some ally of his showing up to cause trouble.  Treason expected no favors from him.  Being suspicious came easily.

Her nose continued to sweep the ground, locking on to something at last.  Vole, was it?  Her ears flicked forward, shoving the male to the back of her mind as she followed the trail.  It was fresh -- so fresh the trail practically hummed with the scent.  The snow was thin here, maybe an inch or so above the tunnels the damn thing ran around in.  She waited.  A scratching noise that came from the ground rather than the sky brought her to pounce on it.  Well, the noise sure stopped, but she wasn't sure if she'd hit the damn thing or if it just froze out of fear.  Curiously, she dug into the snow -- voila!  It was there!  She scooped up the stunned-if-not-smashed creature in her maw, flashing a glance to the male to see what he was doing before she circled to the far side of the nearest tree to rip it into a few bite sized chunks.

She maaayyybe had a little bit of a problem with food aggression.

He hung back, having lost all interest in his own hunt as he observed the woman. With vigor and stealth, she pounced, giving the small kill a killing blow before ripping it to pieces (her glance toward him didn't escape the white-pelted male, which he returned with a bland smile).

"Well caught," he complimented her, giving a curt nod. His voice was a quiet melody through the forest, a song in the trees. It was clear she didn't care for his company, so he'd try his luck elsewhere. "Luck to you," Phocion added, wagging his tail.

With quick, deliberate steps, he padded off, nose low as he tried to pick up a trail going the other direction.

Terribly sorry for the wait on this--have had absolutely no Pho muse. :(

Treason's winning personality had shooed off another friend... Annoyance...  Something.  It wasn't like there was much time for it to swing one way or the other.  He was just some dude, and now he was heading off elsewhere, leaving her to finish the remains of her snack in peace.

Maybe in the future when she didn't have to spend all the time worrying about her next meal she'd be a better conversationalist.

Or, you know.  Not.  That was the future, this was now, and at least at this point, Treason wasn't gonna starve, and that was the best and only option she cared about.   She'd be back to roaming after she finished the vole.