Deepwood Weald The Mines Of Moira

Moira was not so comfortable just yet lately, in this area. Melonii. The name repeated in her mind. It alwyas brought back the memory in the back of her head. It was dark memories. She huffed quietly to herself, sneering almost at the thought in her mind. "Just had to run back into Melonii..."

@Alarian

The Melonii woman is not the only wolf who has yet to settle fully; Alarian has found himself anxious, restless as he struggles to come to terms with this apparent new life. He'd woken with the overwhelming urge to find @Midar today, a desire stifled by various nagging fears, and the resulting conflict has left him aimlessly wandering the territory. He doesn't really expect to run into anyone for some reason.
So it startles him a little when he hears a voice faintly through the trees, unintelligible but clearly wolf in origin. He halts, ears perking as he peers further into the misty forest. Unable to make out anything distinctive, he chuffs softly and starts to move toward where he'd heard the sound. He can only hope it's a packmate and not some weird stranger; he's pretty sure Midar will kill him if he gets into trouble again.

Moira sighed aloud. Back with the Melonii she had ended up. Back with the group. How long had it actually been, anyway, when she had last been in the presence of other Melonii? How did she get into this situation? Moira sighed again, though suddenly she held her breath.

There was another nearby. Hearing the chuff she glanced about, and caught sight of someone. "So who might be in my presence, then?"

The voice calls out to him, and this time he understands the words. A woman, then — older, by her voice. He pushes forward through the mist until she comes into view, immediately identifying her as one of Midar's family. They really all look the same, don't they? Hello, He says softly, dipping his head as he comes to a halt several feet from her. My name is Alarian. Am I disturbing you? The woman has the look of one aged beyond her time, as if worn thin by life too early on; he thinks he can understand the feeling, and knows all too well what it is to desire solitude.

Moira could just barely see them. Till they came out, through the mist around. The sight of them immediately told her they were a fighter. That they had come out on top in many fights...or otherwise they would not be here, now would they? 

"Disturbing me, no...not at-" She paused, as her eyes glanced over his. They seemed so...familiar. Fearfully familiar. Yet it also tugged at her heart to see eyes like those again. "Not at all" she finished, trying to get back to her normal self.

He frowns slightly at the way she pauses, taken aback — but he's too relieved to hear that he isn't bothering her to question it much. He takes a couple steps closer, tail swaying. You're part of Midar's family, right? He figures it's best to clarify rather than assume as he had with Nyx, given how sad the woman had seemed about it. He wonders who she could be to his lover, still unaware of how extensive Midar's relations truly are. For all he knows, this is his immediate family — and perhaps it's not the most unreasonable assumption, given they all look so similar.

She was still confused by the appearance. So many wounds...so much scarring. And the eyes...it was not till the other spoke words did she snap out of it. With a resentful tone and a growl, she answered. "Yes, though I wish to not be compared to them..." she made sure her words were clear.

He apologizes awkwardly, and finds himself hurrying through the rest of the conversation. Eventually they part ways, to his relief, and he decides he should never talk to anyone again.