Redtail Rise dear fellow traveler under the moon

Atop a jutting cliffside atop the mighty rise, old blood kept a close watch, paws draped over the side and swaying idly with the breeze when it swept by, carrying the scent of rain and fallen leaves. The world around him was changing its hues, marking another season since he had been tossed into the world without his crown.

Vasile breathed out a sigh, peering up to the pouring clouds, tugging his tail in a little closer to his body. It wasn’t much a crown, he considered, as a curse set upon him by people who considered too much and understood too little. No matter his pleas for them to be reasonable, they named him Dhampir, and cast him away to be set upon by bandits and left for dead. He lowered his great head to his old bone paws, a stark contrast to the deep black of his coat. He would be content to lie here for a time, watching the world below, watching the rain as it beaded on his eyelashes. Just…watching.

He would be alright. Everything would be alright, he just had to wait for it to come to him. As he always had.

The skies had opened as the ghost followed a forgotten footrail through the Rise. It was terrain she was only vaguely familiar with, having passed through once or twice on her various stints within Teekon. The season was turning; the cold in the air seemingly thickening with the moisture it could not hold. Once, the ostmen might've continued in spite of the weather -- enjoying the soft music of it falling against the gravel underfoot and smashing gently against the distant treetops in the forested parts of the mountain. With age, her hips had come to ache horribly in the rain and to travel in the damp would only irritate her lungs -- bringing back the cough that came and went with the winter. 

It would be better to settle somewhere for the night and continue searching for her daughter with the sun.

The downpour, light as it was, had washed away much of the man's scent, so that the snowdrop did not realize his presence until he was just up ahead of her. She continued on, peace having brought with it acceptance. Whatever lay ahead could not be worse than anything Liri had seen. 

She paused when the he-wolf could be spotted, woodland eyes blinking against the drops that fell on her face as they drank in his pelt of nightsky and the skeletal markings bleaching his points. A soft, curious murmur escaped her throat -- any words unshaped and muffled by the rain. He might've inspired fear but then so might she -- ghastly scarred thing she'd become.  

Dhampir’s ears turned to hear the curious sound of a wolf near to him, his head raising slowly to twist and face the woman who had come to his lonely cliffside. Mahogany stared past the stark bone creams of his face, his head tipping to the side like an interested dog. Slowly, he lifted himself up on spindly legs, offering a slow, friendly sweep of his tail.

Good evening. Vasile spoke in a murmur, giving a respectful dip of his head. He hoped his manners had not taken a beating in the time he had been running.

”Sæll,” she offered in return, raising the rasp of her misused voice to be heard over the drumming of the rain. She had not smelt any borders lain as she crossed through the low mountain and so had no reason to fret over whether she had intruded on his territory. The tundrian could not smell any others on his dark pelt or nearby — she surmised the ghoul to be wandering as she did.

”I am Síff,” the woman gave her name as she took a few steps closer, so they might hear one another better. She dipped her peppered crown in a similar gesture of neutrality. 

”Vhat bring you to Teekon?” the waif ventured politely as she settled her remaining hindleg beneath her scarred haunches. The slashes along her spine tugged, pinching as she twisted to face him. Soon enough, she would need to seek shelter to rest her aching bones but for now, she was content to sit in the rain and chat with him.