Hushed Willows he walks on the thorny warpath to the heavens

the morning is warm and the light salty brine of the sea that wafts from the coast mixes and mingles pleasantly in the air. vilkas draws in the scents: partially of earth, partially of weeping willows and partially of the sea to gleam the information he seeks: the territory is uninhabited. thus far he's pointedly went out of his way to avoid habited territories and the packs that claim them. currently, he seeks better knowledge of this foreign land. it's important for any wolf to have at least a very basic grasp of the region, especially warriors and that was something he'd deigned to drill into the cub's heads. there was a distinct difference between mercenary and scout, yes; but there were many times the two trades overlapped. a warrior needed to wise and sometimes it was more wise to implore stealth and ambush one's opponent rather than confront in head to head combat. especially if disadvantages heavily outweighed the advantages. that happened. there was no such thing as an indomitable wolf.

a soft half snort, half laugh escaped the youngest whitemane's parted jowls as he weaves through the long, writhing boughs of the willows. damn, he missed the jorrvaskr's rugrats. there would be new generations born already but the nord doesn't regret his decision to leave. his path diverted from theirs.

there is a snap of a broken twig under foot and vilkas' steps cease abruptly, his ears cup forth to attention atop his skull, the wispy hairs at his nape bristle in time with the flare of his black, leathery nostrils and upwards tilt of his muzzle as he attempts to discern by scent if the sound came from prey or a fellow predator.

The witch made her way through the new lands she had discovered. Or, well, she supposed they were already discovered, but not by her yet. She had to say, the place was as beautiful as her former home among the band of hippie-like creatures. They had traveled far and wide, and yet this foreign place outmatched everything she had ever seen in beauty and might alone. How she wished to set up camp here! The willows were simply perfect for the calmness she seemed to live in and they promised a wide arrange of herbs for her to stack up on.

Without a single care did she snap a branch in half beneath her ashy paws, unknowingly setting another upon her trail. It was never her intention to spook or bring discomfort to another, and yet it always seemed the elder woman's fate.

thank you for joining! ♥

a fellow predator he soon discerns from the faint scent. there is no wind through the trees: only a slight and weak breeze that rustles the leaves of the canopy overhead. wolf. female. lone. these are all he is able to gleam from her scent alone ...and from the volume of the snap of a branch underfoot she is near. vilkas lingers in his pause for a hairsbreadth of a moment longer, debating. he could act like he heard nothing and continue on his way making a point to avoid the other wolf in the general vicinity. or he could move to intercept her. after a moment longer the firebrand moves and alters his course so that their paths intercept one another. it does not take long for his seaweed gaze to find her, sweeping over her in a warrior's quick assessment. she is older than him and her pelage is a mixture of greys: smoke and ash and gunmetal. the whitemane's approach slows to a stop and with a lift of his head he studies her once more now that he is a bit closer, letting out a chuff to announce his presence lest he's yet to be noticed.

Instead of looking where she was going, the witch had her eyes on the swaying trees. She loved spring more than any season, that much was clear - and not only because she could stack up on her precious medicine but also because it was like the rebirth of mother nature. It smelled fresh - it felt fresh. All what the Autumn had killed and the winter had buried was of the earth now, no more disrupting the beautiful view of the living.

Speaking of the living, there was another being near and she had nearly walked straight into him if she hadn't spotted him in the corner of her hippie blue eyes. She halted, as relaxed as ever and just a bit surprised. Why - hello there. She greeted almost instantly, almost like it was wired into her. She sniffed in his scent that had first been hidden from her due to the gentle breeze not favoring her today. He seemed to be alone, just like she was. Are you from around here? She asked in her posh accent she had acquired from who knows where.

she would have walked into him, likely if he wouldn't have announced his presence to her with a chuff. her path was on a dangerous collision course with his own and the firebrand watches, warring between his natural territoriality, cautiousness and slight amusement as she draws back and greets him, her greeting sounding both surprised and a bit automatic. his ears cup forth atop his skull and he studies her once more as she takes in his scent, as told by the flare of her black, leathery nostrils. he pays acute attention to the details of her movements both from instinct and warrior training.

dialect was not something that vilkas spent a lot of time studying — words could easily be lies and he was much more adapt at reading body language than he was vocalizations and thus he was much more likely to trust body language and non-verbal communication over words — but her dialect is well rounded, polished in a way that could be easily considered elegant. which does not make him inclined to trust her. though he prefers non-verbal communication — reverting back feral beginnings when words were not something their species had — he was ( perhaps surprisingly ) well-spoken. anyone with a silver spoon born in their mouth like that could easily weave words to manipulate and deceive.

she is not the first to ask him if he's from around here — he thinks back to the inky woman lily for the briefest of moments — and thus he assumes it's a common question asked when meeting new wolves. "no." the firebrand responds simply. eventually there might be a day he could answer that he's from somewhere around here but for now he's still a foreigner to these wilds.

vilkas does not linger long. after a few more minutes of awkward conversation the firebrand departs and leaves the woman to her own devices.