Ankyra Sound jòn

for @Grackle <3

A brief wander away from the seacliffs, a breather; well into the heart of the monolith. Sequoias dance at her sides and hold her close, and in her nose lies the scent of hare that drove her here.
Coraline pauses only briefly to scan the lowground, nape hiked up in a fine prickle. Perhaps, if she were lucky, she could bring her catch to Mireille — her children drank from her no more, but in the mind of the pearl was still the instinct to provide, to nourish. Or perhaps it was her own way of making peace with her absence, of searching for forgiveness she felt she did not deserve — or of proving herself, somehow.

I'm excited! 

The dark figure glided gracefully through the dense woods, her massive frame moving with a surprising fluidity. Her broad head hung low to the ground, and her nose twitched and wriggled as she followed an elusive scent. The forest seemed alive with the promise of a successful hunt, and Grackle's eyes shone with resolve.

Rabbit, when I catch you... Grackle muttered through bared teeth. She had been pursuing the foul creature since the sun had graced the sky that day, but it had eluded her at every turn, slipping through her grasp as if mocking her. Now, hunger clawed at her insides, and what was left of her already waning patience was rapidly fading.

Hunger was not a new feeling for Grackle. Ever since she had arrived in this foreign territory several moons ago, it had been a constant companion. She had transformed into a mere shadow of the formidable wolf she once was. Her once-lustrous coat had dulled, and though she still carried an imposing presence, she was far from the hulking behemoth of her former self. Revenge, it seemed, was not all it had cracked up to be.

As Grackle pressed on, she slowed to a measured pace, ears twitching attentively. The scent of the hare was growing stronger, and she had learned the hard way that haste often led to disappointment. She inhaled deeply, nostrils filling with the unmistakable aroma of her quarry. Every muscle in her body coiled with anticipation, her jaws aching for the satisfying crunch of prey. Yet, this rabbit was more than a meal; it had become a challenge, a test of her diminishing skills and the waning fire of her determination.

However, this time, there was no one to witness her prowess (or lack thereof). The scent of other wolves lingered in the air, but Grackle had seemingly perfected the art of evading their notice, slipping through the territories unseen, a solitary figure seeking to reaffirm dominance in a land devoid of her own kind.

Two beady eyes peer from the dark hide of bracken, glistening with what could only be described as instinctive terror. A pause from the redwoman, however brief; a rigidity to bony limbs as they twitch and then flex and pearly teeth gnash in a futile attempt at — flushing. The hare evades her.
Shit! her teeth clip together inside her mouth, a vicious flick of a pale pink tongue as her catch slips so effortlessly from her grasp. Decidedly, however, this was not the end. Air pours from her nostrils in a cloud of smoke as she resigns to a low prowl; a pantheress, eyes glittering.
Perhaps she was merely too prideful to notice that another's eyes rest upon the same prize.

A sound emanating from the forest ahead startled Grackle, causing her to freeze in place. Her emerald eyes, set within the darkness of her visage, cautiously scanned the horizon. That was no rabbit; it was a voice. She was not alone.

She would grab her hare and hurry out of this place. Grackle was too tired to fight now, and she knew it. All she needed to do was find that gods-forsaken thing. She slunk ahead, her body nearly brushing the forest floor, her ears pricked and alert for any unfamiliar sounds. The scents of both the rabbit and, regrettably, the stranger, grew stronger with each passing moment. Hopefully, she would encounter the former before the latter.

The hare was finally within her sight, nestled in the hollow between the bracken. Her opportunity had come. Grackle readied herself to spring, to capture her prey and make a swift exit from this place. However, as her gaze traveled from the hare to the foliage beyond, she stumbled upon a sight that left her breathless and unable to look away. There was the stranger, opposite to her, apparently also hunting the same hare.

The ocean's azure depths, the boundless expanse of sky, and the tender wings of a fragile butterfly, all connected and curled within the gaze of this mystifying stranger. These eyes, like a siren's call, arrested her very breath, rendering her powerless to avert her own stare. Such a color she had never beheld, imaginable only if possessed by some deity or sea nymph drawn down from the heavens to grace the earthly realm with their presence. Yet, the scent that wafted to her was distinctly mortal. In this presence, Grackle felt assured that neither divine wrath nor celestial ire would descend upon her for indulging in a stolen glance, or perhaps, even a burgled meal.

But her paws would not move no matter how much she willed them to. The sea goddess had bewitched the wretched little serpent.

It was almost comical how Coraline got herself into these situations.
A sound, so light, and yet it does not escape the cupped russet ears. Wolven, distinctly so; the sharp thud of feet, the intake of breath that then comes to a halt. And now, her hare is long gone — her head turns only to be met with the hefty figure of a nightwoven stranger; not Val, nor Maleah, but someone new in entire. This close to Sapphique?
What should have been frustration over the lost prospective meal and protectiveness over this broad's proximity to her home was instead — curiosity. And, perhaps, pride; she is clearly ogled, but not as if she is meat in the eyes of a man; instead, it was the slow lap of hunger only women understood. A wordless understanding seems to overtake her.
But she could not be so eager yet.
We be huntin' de same prey, mm? a laugh rumbles, one bordering on coquettish. Do you know where you be, bel tifi?

While Grackle couldn't fathom the sea spirit's innermost thoughts, Coraline's assertion held true; not even a hint of carnal desire sullied even the shadowy recesses of the she-wolf's mind. Could a snake dare aspire to court a deity, after all? It was unimaginable. For now, Grackle merely stood there, entranced- a tender whelp beholding the breathtaking splendor of sunset for the very first time.

And then the nymph graced her with a voice, one that sent waves of warmth cascading through Grackle's ears and her heart dancing in a way she had never experienced before. It wasn't the frenzied beat of adrenaline in the heat of a hunt nor the savage ecstasy of rending flesh, but something altogether new. Grackle had always fancied herself brave, relishing fights with a sadistic grin etched on her muzzle, but in the presence of this stranger, she realized her true timidity.

I'm sorry, miss, I didn't realize I was intruding upon your hunting grounds, Grackle's penchant for prolonged eye contact was a habit she had never broken, stemming from her pup days. Usually, it held no particular meaning, but she was subconsciously aware of the power it conveyed. The power that could make others wither beneath her piercing gaze. However, she had never been on the receiving end before. Was this how others felt when facing her? Grackle's adder-like eyes fell to the ground before her, where the rabbit had waited only a moment ago.

As Grackle came to the disheartening realization that the hare had vanished during her brief moment of distraction, her stomach emitted a low growl, an embarrassing reminder of her hunger. But oddly, she didn't mind. The presence of this figure seemed to have sated her appetite for now. Perhaps this was a more profound starvation, one she hadn't known she harbored, that had been temporarily appeased.

Grackle couldn't deny that it had been an eternity since she had last laid eyes on one of her own kind, and the countless solitary nights she had spent roaming this region now felt much lonelier. The impending solitude loomed, and she knew that soon, she would once again be engulfed by isolation. So, for this fleeting moment, she decided to savor the company.

The woman continues to stare like a hapless doe in front of blaring headlights, and for a moment, Coraline wonders if the ooze of drool may start to fall down her chin. And perhaps it was wrong of her to revel in it, in this attention — something unlike anything she had ever felt, the simmering verdant eyes that pull at her. It was oddly... innocent, that look, the glimmer of reflected light; the hum of foreign voice.
Do not fear, you are not intrudin', not yet. but we be near Sapphique, my home. Coraline too, now, returns the slow study of womanly figure; making no mistake of where her eyes take her. Dis land might as well belong to us. another laugh, bright and willowy without an ounce of threat to be found within.
This one, she thought, was no danger, so long as she was made aware of where she stood.
Coraline, the seawolf introduces, a soft lilt as her name drips from her tongue. I be huntin' for my sister.

 Grackle, She returned, the name sounding choking and harsh compared to the maidenly Coraline.

I see. That was the reason for the strong scent yet lack of a border. So, um, your territory is...? Her fumbling inquiry was a lifeline to a more practical and familiar territory, away from the uncharted emotional waters she found herself treading in. Grackle's instincts, ever sharp, took the lead now. It was vital to know the boundaries of this stranger's territory. It could mean the difference between another confrontation and a peaceful hunt. Her eyes flickered between the stranger and the encircling forest, present to her words but still wary, as she waited for a response.

Yet beneath her vigilance and practicality, Grackle couldn't shake the odd feeling welling up within her. It... It seems I frightened away your hare. An uneasy glance upwards followed, her eyes meeting the sunset-pelted wolf's. The word "your" danced on her tongue, briefly stoking a twinge of irritation. After all, she had been pursuing it since daybreak. But as she mentally clashed over the trivial matter, Grackle's protective instincts nudged her thoughts in another direction. She had no pack to share her catches with, whereas Coraline had her sister to provide for. This inner conflict persisted, complicating the simple matter of a mere hare and sparking a multitude of emotions she struggled to identify. 

She was usually much better than this- elegant, refined, cunning. But Grackle was having trouble ridding her head of an incredibly stupid, mushy feeling, and her heart pounding in her ears was no help either.

Her name is Grackle. Like de bird? her lips twist into a velveteen smirk.
Grackle asks again where she lives, and a starlight twinkle brushes across her gaze. Sapphique. De seacliffs to de east, she gestures with a tilt of her nose to the east. it be a place of women. My mot'ers left it to my sisters.
Her mothers. A pang runs through her chest, up into her ribs; her mothers. What would they think of her now, having come to reclaim their land as hers again?
The seafoam eyes return to the pretty stranger, the hard sting of grief hidden behind the soft curl of dark lashes. Dere will be ot'er hares, bel tifi. Do you be needin' food? Otherwise, why would she be here? A pause, and then another question: Or a home?

 Grackle listened in silence as Coraline spoke, her form shifting upward from the hunting crouch she had been locked in. A fleeting realization struck her as she rose—she was taller than the golden nymph. The thought surprised her, though it remained unspoken, and her stare darted briefly around the surrounding forest, reflecting the deep greens of the towering trees.

In her former pack, gender had held little significance; power mattered above all else. The notion of a place of women seemed utterly foreign to her, a concept that shattered the preconceived notions she'd carried from her old life. This land had forced her to ponder her own identity and the intricacies of a world divided not only between weak and strong, but man and woman, a shift that she was still coming to terms with. The idea that wolves might gather in packs based on their gender had never occurred to her and left her feeling somewhat confused yet intrigued.

The word "mothers" reverberated within her like an electric shock. Grackle's thoughts involuntarily flitted to her own family and what they might think if they saw her now, worn and starved in this unfamiliar land. Would they even care, or had the feeble ties that once bound them grown too frayed to matter? They had professed their love for her, claimed that everything they did was for her well-being, yet they had let her be banished without a fight. Her chest tightened slightly, but her expression remained unchanged. She did not realize Caroline was experiencing a similar pain, nor could it be said if she would have even been able to offer any words of comfort if she did perceive it.

Then, Coraline spoke again, using a foreign phrase Grackle couldn't understand but made her heart leap anyway. I... Grackle began, her gaze dropping to the leaf-strewn forest floor once more. Almost unconsciously, she shifted her body slightly out of sight, her pride driving her to hide the ribs becoming increasingly visible beneath tightening skin. I haven't found a place to call my own yet, no. She finally responded after a moment of thought, her voice soft.

Grackle hadn't a home; belonged to no one. Part of her wondered if, perhaps, this strange woman could belong to the sea.
But perhaps that was selfish; Sapphique was a place of her own blood, was it not? And who was she to decide such things when she had not been handed the proverbial torch?
Either way, a devious grin touches the cream-colored lips. Coraline could allow herself this self-centeredness, just this once. She presses closer to the well-worn slate shoulder; this woman Grackle is taller, much more so than her, and a flutter twists at her stomach. Maybe you could meet my sisters, den.
Possessiveness brews; but not over land previously perceived as her own.

Grackle took a slight step back, her tall figure moving with the fluidity of a dancer in the secluded grove. A new wave of heat rose from her ears to trickle down her face. If Coraline were to draw any closer, she would be sure to hear the heartbeat that could have easily been mistaken for the scampering of the rabbit they had pursued just moments ago.

The woman's presence felt like a cool breeze, carrying scents of salt and seafoam, ruffling the dark fur, and promising something Grackle didn't quite understand. She took in the stranger's features, her mind still wrestling with the concept of a women's pack. She was in unknown territory, both literally and figuratively, and there was a new path unraveling before her, one she had previously been blind to.

Perhaps... I could. She replied, pushing past the tightness that constricted her throat, her vision locked to powder irises.

last one from me!! i love these two and i hope they get to meet again soon <3

Remember me, den, Grackle.
Coraline draws back ever so slowly, a drawn-out inhale snaking through her lungs as if trying to sift through the pinesap upon Grackle's fur and make something of her own out of it. Even if she did not come to Sapphique, perhaps there would be another time their paths would cross. Or maybe it was only wishful thinking.
Enjoy de hare, if you find it. Orevwa.
Her smile falls lopsided as she begins to turn toward the brush; redflame figure disappearing into the treeline. There will be other hares — but she did not think there would be other birds quite like this one.

Thank you so much for the thread! <3

A swirl of emotions churned within Grackle's chest as she tried to make sense of their encounter, her thoughts a jumbled mess. Had Coraline been genuine in her offer? Or was she merely playing some game?

The dark wolf watched, transfixed, as the woman left. Her gaze tracked the golden nymph's every movement, following her slow retreat. She did not expect Coraline to remember her. She was just another stranger, another fleeting encounter in the wilderness. But hidden deep inside, there was a glimmer of hope. Hope that this time would be different.

The moment the figure vanished completely, Grackle let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. She shook her head, fur prickling with unease as she tried to recognize the alien sensations tugging on her bones. This was all just too much. She needed to get out of here, to clear her head.

Paws trudged forward, attached to a body of sludge and disorder. Slowly at first and then gaining speed. The sooner she was out of these woods, the better.