Cerulean Cape A spoonful of tar

The angry pack-wolf had been young but he had taken her threat seriously.

It was nothing out of the ordinary. When he traveled with the Soldiers the locals had always viewed them with suspicion. Strangers in a strange land. He saw the unbridgeable distance between himself and what he thought of as the "real", civilian world. The girl with vibrant hair and eyes and him with his one-note days, encased by the amber of routine. It had been a rediscovering of electricity.

He lay awake in the night, her green eyes flashing magenta in their ghostly, floating inverse, forming and reforming every time he blinked. The sea breeze swept over him, and grass tickled his temple. He nuzzled his face against the dirt so that only one eye stared, reflecting the swaying silhouette of the reeds and the stars overhead. Sweetharbor, he thought, not wanting to forget.

He did not sleep.

heda went ashore that day, compelled by hunting and an odd stirring, a response to the pulse of the springtime. what she found was a shimmering expanse of what might be aquamarine in the summertime, sand stippled with signs of living creatures above and below.
ignoring her hunger and her wandering for a moment, heda shut her eyes, lifting red-striped head into the saltwave of wind which flowed coldly across the currents and lifted her crimson nape. 
god was in all places.
further along the cape was a figure immediately familiar in a way that vaguely pinked her face. one of bartholomew's people, and yet different in appearance. 
he seemed part of the land.
"hello," heda said softly, slowing her approach. "are you all right?"

:D

The way he flinched at her voice, you might've thought she had caught him red-handed. Somehow, he had not noticed her approach. He scrambled to his feet, his eyes avoiding her face out of embarrassment. Sandy soil was smeared along the side of his jaw he had pressed against the ground.

Yes, he said, as if unlodging something from his throat.

Then, finally lifting his gaze, something softened in his guarded expression. She was young like the redhead that had driven him from the beach, though with an entirely different demeanor. He found it funny that two groups that lived on the same shore, close enough to see each other easily with the naked eye, should be so different.

You are of Sweetharbor?

<3

the man snapped to his feet, the sea-earth falling in gentle grains from the side of his softened face. his fur held a silken curl, his eyes lambent as if drawing in all the light and reflecting it back at her.
and the voice.
and the name.
a golden smile flickered over heda's features, and she nodded, understanding now why she had been called to this place on this day. "yes. i'm heda, and sweetharbor is an island, that way." her gilded gaze seemed to drink him in. "what's your name, friend?"

Friend. It felt good to be called one, even though he knew that it was merely out of courtesy. She spoke slowly and softly, the words clear enough for him to understand.

I am Daniil.

He was the first to break eye contact, looking towards the island. He thought that everyone he had met here had such intense eyes.

Will they... take me? He asked, uncertain of what exactly he meant. A stranger?

A smile crossed his face, fleeting and almost boyish despite his age. It crinkled his nose. He noticed how the fur on her head and back was a vulpine russet, as if she'd been making snow angels in red clay. Beyond the two wolves, the sun played bright over the ocean's waves where the light split apart and shimmered in glowing bokeh. It hit him then that the word Sweetharbor was in fact made of two words: sweet, and another he hadn't heard before. The knowledge of the first syllable emboldened him; he knew what sweetness was, and remembered it in his mouth.

heda smiled and it played on the glistening glow of the reflected sea in his eyes. "yes. we were all strangers once. bartholomew brought us together and god kept us there." her voice held the reverence of a countryside churchyard growing wild with honeysuckle and night-rose beneath a great full seaside moon.
"all are welcome in sweetharbor, daniil," the young wolf assured him. her paws flexed in the sand, cold between her toes but warmer under the arch of her foot. "we're not official, i guess. just a group that stays together on an island."

Bartolomew, he echoed. Like apostle in stories. For all his awkwardness, he didn't miss the way her voice had gone hushed, almost prayerful. In a way she reminded him of some of the recruits and their faces as they listened closely to every word of their commandant.

He had seen men, mortal flesh-and-blood men, command hearts and minds as if by magic. No matter how many times he saw it, even felt it himself, it was unbelievable.

I like that, he pawed at the sand, unconsciously mirroring her. I want to see it.

He asked, idly, why does god keep you there? He had not been in a real conversation for so long. Strange thoughts bubbled to the surface of his mind and threatened to burst from his lips. He wanted to ask more about her and her island, but lacked the easy coherence to conduct small talk. Instead, his words seemed to hinge away from their intended course, destroying eggshells in the wake of their odd spiraling paths.

heda's breath hitched in her throat; she stared at daniil with a lucid dreamscape to her irises, thinking of bartholomew's smile beneath a saltwound sunrise —
"yes, yes, that's — exactly what he is." heda's ear flicked at the sound of his own paw trailing across the ground of the coastline. "well, i can take you anytime. i just came out here to hunt. i thought." his question made her face soft with consideration. "well, i don't mean to stay we're not allowed to leave. just that we came back together, you know. we were something once and maybe it wasn't time. but we stayed there, on the island. and now we have more of a congregation than before."
her eyes glowed. "i think you will enjoy it there."

We can fade here, or play out the hunt, I don't mind either. Thank you for the thread, I love Heda <3

She looked at him but he could tell she still thought of Bartholomew. He wondered if this was a smart choice, to be led into a not-quite-pack by a girl who was smitten with its figurehead— but he smothered his misgivings, telling himself that there was, for now, no other place for him to turn to. If he was to wait out this winter, it might as well be in a church. Even if he thought that he didn't deserve to be anywhere near an altar.

Besides, she had endeared herself to him somewhat, even in this short span of time. He enjoyed her pensiveness, her bright sincerity.

We can hunt now, then go to Sweetharbor, he suggested with a flick of his tail. So I not arrive with empty paws.

let's fade & i will start them a new one at sweetharbor <3 i love him sm

heda liked daniil at once. he was a man of not so many but punctuating words, content to let her fill the spaces between with all the words that jumped out of her all the time. "i saw some birds this way. we could look for nests. or — otters, i think," she said, scratching at a musky little track as she moved down the beach.
her grin was light; she would ask him questions here and there, and eventually lead him over the bridge of sand to her haven.

Yay, thanks so much! Fading here for Dan. ^^

He bobbed after her. They shared a lightness in their strides. As they picked their way down the beach, to Sweetharbor, he placed his feet in the pawprints she left, out of habit.

When they finally arrived at the sand bridge the sun was well on its way to setting. The afternoon saw the air suffused with an oneiric, buttery haze.