Shadewood a setting sun, or rolling waves at sea

Maiira had felt the quakes along with everyone else. She had stayed on the coast for about a week, specifically near the tide pools. They made for an easy meal. All she had to do was wait for the tide to come in and dump the pools full of little fish and oysters and other things, and then recede again. Then she would come out from wherever she had been and wander amongst the pools until her hunger was satiated. However, Maiira was a traveler, and staying in one place for too long often left her feeling a little on edge, a little unraveled. This could be exceedingly dangerous, for Maiira was already a little unraveled as it was. Her generally happy demeanor could turn sharp and brittle quickly if she did not get her way or was put out about something. 

Besides, when the quakes had not stopped, but had, in fact, gotten worse, she was inclined to believe that this was the Goddess’ way of telling her to move on. So, she breathed in the Mother Ocean for the last time, and then turned south from the coast and moved inward. Now, here among the elm trees, she wondered who or what she would meet next. What did the Mother have in mind for her, if anything? Or had she simply put meaning into a meaningless natural event? It was difficult to know, sometimes. But if one simply kept moving, one would eventually come to understand things. That had been her experience, anyways.

Silence met her ears at first.

For a few moments after waking there was nothing, an emptiness surrounding her. As her eyes opened she took in a hazy glimpse of dark shapes lined in fuzzy hints of light, and closed them again.

There was a sound in her head like white noise. As conciousness returned to the wolf the noise increased in pitch, like a dog whistle, until the silence was broken and she was deaf to everything but the sharp note; but then someone drifted by her in the dark, and the crunching of the leaves by unseen paws cut the sound from her head. The wolf winced as she shifted against the leaf-litter, raising a paw and draping it over her face - but that tone was gone, and she could hear the forest now.

She thought she could see someone stalking across the beams of light, thought she saw the dust motes shift around something solid, thought— hello...? She breathed the sound more than spoke it, and the word caught in her throat, made her cough. The wolf lifts her dark head and catches a shaft of light across her eyes, so she drops it again. Maybe the stranger will notice her where she's laying but - does she want that? Is she in danger?

The wolf doesn't know which to prioritize: her safety, or her silence. It doesn't occur to her until moments later that the dark shapes of the forest are not familiar in the slightest, nor the sight and smell of the distant red-coated creature; nothing here is famliar, nothing here makes sense.

Maiira stopped her musings and also stopped walking when she thought she heard something. She could not be sure, however. One paw remained in the air, suspended, as if she were about to take a step. Her large ears swiveled on her head like satellites, trying to pinpoint whatever the noise had been. It had sounded like wind… or perhaps a ghost. Maiira grinned at such a thought. Ghosts were a common occurrence in her life. They did not frighten her. “Is there a ghost here?” she asked, continuing to grin. Her head remained stationary, though her ears continued to swivel and her eyes looked all around.

Perhaps this was what the Mother wanted of her, yes? To commune with the dead before the coming of the Equinox, which was very soon. Autumn was a time for the dead and the living to mingle. It would not surprise Maiira that a ghost was trying to speak to her. Or it could be nothing. Or it could be another like her, wandering these woods. It was so difficult to tell sometimes. Not wanting to frighten whatever may or may not have been there, she said, “Maiira is a friend. She will not harm you. Speak to her, if you wish.” Then she waited.

She is fortunate enough to understand the sounds she hears. They are words, although the language itself it accented and she cannot understand how she understands in the first place. Much of the waking world will be an adjustment. However, the words themselves strike her as curious—they are appropriate to her situation. She feels more like the risen dead than anything alive or thriving, and while the wolf does not know how she got here, at least she can take comfort in knowing she is alive. Or a ghost. Either version of herself is welcome since it means she is, somehow, alive.

The voice urges her to speak, and she opens her mouth. H-hello, Maiira, she calls out as loud as she can, as strongly as she can. The lilt of the stranger's name feels odd on her tongue; she shifts a bit against the dirt and the ferns, her eyes narrowing in anticipation for the sunlight as she lifts her head and tries to make herself known. Her coat is quite glossy despite whatever hardships she has seen—the light catches across her brow and slants in to her eyes.

Maiira, she implores, gasping the name as she struggles to all fours; her haunches shake and she finds herself tilting in to a haphazard recline. A thin body with thinner limbs and obvious ribs; for whatever reason it is as if the black wolf is fashioned from twigs and her limbs are too weak to sustain her for long.

She looses a weighted breath. I am so tired. So weak—but why? How did she get here, in this state?

Small powerplay, feel free to accept or decline.

The ghost greeted her, and Maiira grinned, continuing to look around. The voice of the ghost sounded weak and whispery, but the coywolf assumed that probably most ghosts would sound that way, seeing as they were spirits of the dead. Ghosts did not speak like living things. 

A glossy shadow moved near a bush nearby and the coywolf turned her head to watch. It was a pitiful creature who now struggled to sit up, calling her name. A wolf, but one starved and skeletal. Maiira rushed forward to give aid to the ghost who was not a ghost, allowing the woman to lean against her if she wished. 

’I am so tired,’ the woman huffed.

The coywolf stood back to get a better look at the woman. “This one needs food,” she said worriedly. “Maiira can hunt for you, yes? She cannot bring down a deer on her own, but perhaps some rabbits?” Maiira was generally a kindly creature, one who did her best to help others if they needed it. She was only wicked to those who were wicked to her, first, and this poor woman was certainly not wicked. Maiira was afraid she’d keel over and die of starvation if she did not get something into her stomach soon. Her large ears perked on her head and she looked at the woman for confirmation that she begin her hunt.

That's totally cool! Maiira is so sweet.

It was difficult to focus on the words once they began again—she tried though, letting her eyes close drowsily and her ears tilt towards them. The stranger could have put her out of her misery but instead she offered her aid, and it made the dark wolf smile softly; the corners of her lips curled slightly and she imagined what it would feel like to have something warm inside her belly. Did she like rabbit? It would not matter so long as there was meat.

This one... This one is thankful, she says, trying to compose herself, and speaking with the same cadence as the stranger as a kindness; but then she drawled, I would help, but... I... she was too weak, too small. For all she knew, she was the worst hunter in the history of the world. That would certainly explain why she was starving and half-dead here in this forest. The woman shivered where she sat in the dark, her faint voice fading away as her energy level waned.

The dark wolf was clearly exhausted. Maiira could tell that even as she spoke, watching in concern as the woman closed her eyes as if she could not keep them open. She sent a quick prayer to the Goddess to watch over the woman. Maiira would be very cross if she came back from her hunt to find that the woman had died while she had been gone… Very cross, indeed. 

Maiira flashed an amused grin when the ghost-who-was-not-a-ghost attempted to emulate her speech patterns. “Do not try speaking like Maiira,” she warned, humor clear in her voice. “Many have tried. Some have succeeded, but more have simply confused themselves. Maiira comes from a place far away from here, where all she meets speak as she does. Do not trouble yourself trying to learn her strange habits of the tongue.” She grinned again. “Though… Maiira thanks this one for her efforts.”

The woman spoke again, seemingly feeling bad about being unable to help Maiira in her hunt. “No, no,” Maiira spoke quickly and firmly. Now she had become the Mother incarnate, watching over her child. “You are injured. Lie still and quiet. Sleep if you can. Maiira will return with food.” She turned with a swish of the tail and a wink over her shoulder, her eye flashing in the dark, and was gone.

She will return after your post with food! I’m not going to write out the hunt because that’s boring lol.

She tried to smile and wasn't sure if the expression registered across her gaunt face, but it felt like muscles were tugged in to place and before long, when it became clear what the plan was and that the black wolf could not stay lucid for much longer, the expression felt as if it faded. No more constriction wrought across her features. When Maiira shushed her and told her to relax, the woman wanted to—very much so—and let herself slink out of the pooling light and in to the dark again, and her forelimbs were thankful for the reprieve. They were sore already; the woman did not weigh much but it was enough to cause aches and pains.

Oh.. okay, the woman sighed. Her eyes slowly closed, blinked, opened, and she could have sworn Maiira had just been standing in front of her, but the red wolf was already gone. There was no way for the weary wolf to recognize how much time had passed—or if it was passing at all, as this could have been some kind of limbo, or a punishment, something unholy built to make her suffer. The woman could not affix her mind for long on any one tangent of thoughts; she drifted through them, and eventually she did sleep, or something close to it. The woods were lovely, dark, and deep...

Something cracked between the trees—a weak branch coming loose maybe—and the sound of wooden limbs snapping and hitting the forest floor was enough to startle the lost wolf back to coherent thought; her eyelids fluttered and she inhaled a sharp breath, lifting her head.

On the air was the scent of something foul and when the wolf opened her eyes she saw—well, she wasn't sure. The dark shapes of the woods merged and twisted in to a canine shape but it was larger than Maiira had been, and darker. It moved with many limbs; eight in all if she had counted right. It skittered rather than stalked and the motions left the wolf feeling extraordinarily tense. As the creature neared its eyes opened—one, two, ten, fifteen—! Its mouth opened and words spilled out like vomit: You left me you left me youleftmeyouLEFT!

With a gag she recoils, and this time she wakes, the feeling of her forelimbs jamming against the dirt is enough to break the spell of sleep and pull her from the nightmare; and when the wolf opens her eyes this time they are wide and full of terror, but they land upon the approaching silhouette of something red between the trees.

Maiira had been lucky and able to find two rabbits hiding away in a hole she had dug up. One she had captured as it attempted to dart between her paws, and the other she had had to chase for a time. Soon it would be difficult to find small mammals like this to prey upon, for they would all be sleeping far beneath the ground, away from the cold and the snow. Maiira would have to find somewhere to stay for the winter… or risk it alone. She was not sure what she’d do yet. With her looks, she wasn’t sure any pack would take her in. Her father’s wolf blood did not show in her features at all. She was surprised she had not yet been attacked by the wolves she had met in these lands. Perhaps she smelled like a wolf…

She pondered these things as she made her way back towards the starved woman. Her tail wagged as she approached, for her mouth was full of rabbit and unable to speak. But when she saw the look on the woman’s face, she quickly dropped her rabbits and said, “What is it? This one looks spooked.” Maiira looked around, the fur on the back of her neck standing up. “Did you see a ghost? A real one? Do not worry. Ghosts are mostly harmless and only want company.” She turned to the woman again with a soft smile. “Maiira brought food,” she finished, nudging the two rabbits with her paw.

The dream, hallucination, whatever it was, burrowed to the back of her skull like a little maggot. She felt the after-effects of dread ebbing in to confusion and back again; the formless became corporeal before her eyes, and she recognized the red woman from earlier. To say that it put her at ease is an understatement. She took in a shuddering breath of the autumn air and deflated as she exhaled, feeling the pounding of her rabbit heart, hearing her pulse in her ears begin to regulate. Then there came the hesitating cadence of Maiira's voice, and the nameless woman didn't know what to say.

Ghosts seemed like an adequate explanation, for now.

It.. yes... Must have been, she murmured. Useless. Utterly useless. She loathed this feeling of inadequacy—and this grogginess! What she wouldn't give for a month's rest and some fresh meat... Ah, right, Maiira—It smells good, says the wolf in her absent-minded way, remembering the quest that Maiira had gone on.

It was so nice to have company again.

Am I... a ghost? She wondered, and accidentally asked aloud as she watched the rabbit carcasses roll towards her. Offered up so eagerly by a kind-hearted stranger, to which she gave an appreciative (if a bit dopey) smile while she made to lean towards them and grab a foot with her teeth; so soft, so careful.

@Glitch - Sorry for the wait! And for how long this is lol. I got rambly.

The woman continued to look spooked despite Maiira’s explanation, so the coywolf decided she must keep a close eye on her. Frightened people could do incredibly stupid things.

’Am I… a ghost?’ the woman asked, and then reached for one of the rabbits. It was a gentle grab of the rabbit’s foot, as if she were afraid to hurt it, despite it being dead. 

“Hmm,” said Maiira, studying the woman for some time as she ate. Maiira herself was not hungry. She often spent so much time in her own head that she forgot to maintain her physical body. As such, she no longer felt hunger pangs unless she was truly starving. It was a blessing… and a curse. On one hand, if it was the dead of winter and most wolves were complaining about the ache in their bellies, Maiira made no such complaints. On the other, because she often went so long without food, she’d wake up one morning and find herself weak and unable to think straight, which made hunting much harder.

But Maiira was not like most wolves. She didn’t even consider herself a wolf—she had never known her father. So to see a wolf pick so gently at a dead rabbit was… strange. What could cause this woman to be so gentle with her food. Maiira did not believe the woman was a ghost, not after having spoken to her for this long. But the woman was different. Odd. And not the same way Maiira was odd. A different kind of odd. One that concerned her. Maiira had made up her mind.

“Maiira has thought of something. It is Autumn now and the weather is cooling. Soon, prey will be harder to come by and snow will cover the ground. One wolf alone in the cold would not do so well… but two together have a better chance of survival.” She paused to let her meaning sink in. “Why don’t we stick together, yes? This way we can… help one another.” She raised her brows at the woman, waiting for a response. In truth, what Maiira really wanted was to keep an eye on this wolf, to make sure she was safe. To get her, perhaps, into a pack. And then, once that was done, Maiira would leave with the next wind.

But the nameless woman did not agree to such things. It was with some sadness that Maiira left her behind, after wishing her a fond farewell.