Dahozhoni Meadow seaborne

for @Nimbus!

sunset; the departure of her only companion, though nausicaä was too far removed from any true sense of companionship to mourn the loss. the light would return, anyhow.

nothing else ever would.

nausicaä picked over the decaying corpse of some large bird, nothing but scraps by now. she wasn't beyond hunting for herself — but who could pass up a free meal? her muzzle wrinkled slightly at the sour taste of rot, though.

Nimbus watched from a distance, his silver coat blending seamlessly with the dusky shadows of the approaching night. His pale yellow eyes locked onto the lone figure as she scavenged, her movements methodical but weary. He stepped closer, his presence deliberate but unthreatening. The crunch of frost under his paw broke the silence, a subtle announcement of his approach.

You won't find much there, Nimbus said, his voice low and steady, carrying the weight of someone who had seen more than his share of empty offerings. His gaze flicked to the carcass she picked over, then back to her. Winter gives little, but it rarely gives freely.

the stranger came bearing words as silvered as his own furs, some kind of desultory offering at the bare shrine of her desolation. he was a pretty thing, heavenswrought — but he didn't know her. nausicaä glanced up, swiping her tongue across her muzzle to erase some of the rotten scent from her mouth.

whatever the price, i'm sure i've paid it a thousand times already, she murmured, a glint in her eyes akin to amusement. enough for both of us, maybe, if you fancy a carrion dinner yourself.

Nimbus tilted his head, the faintest flicker of a smirk ghosting across his muzzle. Generous, he said, his tone carrying a quiet humor that matched her glint. But I’ve had my fill of decay for one lifetime. He stepped closer, his movements deliberate, the fading light catching the streaks of silver in his fur.

Though I’ll admit, he continued, his gaze unwavering, I’ve paid my share of debts as well. Some to the forest, some to the ghosts it keeps, and some I will carry to my fucking grave His voice softened, not with pity but with a calm understanding that felt almost weightless. 

Nimbus lowered his head slightly, his pale eyes scanning her face, reading the steel beneath her weariness. You don’t seem the type to settle for leftovers He spoke with quiet certainty. Whatever price you’ve paid, you’re still here. That’s worth more than you think.

He let his words hang in the air, it was all he had left to offer. But maybe we can work together to find something more appetizing.

when he spoke of her nature, she couldn't help but interject; how could you know? yet there was a good-humored quirk to her lips as she said it. and besides —

two is better than one, i'll admit, though i've never known a life untouched by decay. our own hunts only feed the cycle, no? not that we ought to feel guilty; we'll all be leftovers in the end.

nausicaä rose, nudging the skeleton as if to emphasize her point.

but perhaps we'll make the best of it, you and i. it's not as if i've anywhere better to be. her gaze found him, steady and without judgment. did you have something in mind?

Nimbus’s ears flicked at her interjection, a faint huff of amusement escaping him. How could I know? he echoed, his lips curving into a slight grin. I suppose I don’t. But I know the look of someone still standing when the weight of decay should have brought them down.

He watched as she nudged the skeleton, his gaze lingering on the stark reminder of the forest’s indifference. You’re right, he said after a moment. Decay touches everything eventually. But feeding the cycle doesn’t mean we have to surrender to it. Sometimes, it’s enough just to keep moving—until we find a place where the rot doesn’t reach.

Her steady gaze met his, and he returned it without hesitation, a rare flicker of something like trust sparking in his eyes. If you’re serious, he said, I could assist in trying to catch something a bit more lively.

in an instant she decided that she would follow him. for an hour or for a lifetime, she didn't yet know — but who ever knew? who could ever predict which way the tide would take them after surrendering to the water?

well, she supposed that she'd been meant to... but the tide had taken her a different direction, it seemed. somewhere far from the ocean. she managed a tired smile for the man.

let's see what we can find, then, she murmured, lifting her nose into the wind. a place where the rot doesn't reach. after a moment, she added without looking at him again: nausicaä.

Nausicaä. He let the name hang on his tongue for a moment before he responded. Interesting name, never heard anything like it.

Nimbus, he offered in return, his voice steady but soft, as if the name itself carried a weight he wasn’t quite ready to share.He glanced at her then, his pale yellow eyes meeting hers briefly, steady as ever. 

Nimbus turned his gaze back to the horizon, his movements deliberate yet unhurried. These wilds may not give freely, but it rewards those who know how to take.

The wind had carried a scent he was not familiar with but a scent that was clearly alive. As he begun to step towards it he could not help but feel a small flicker of gratuity, a lone wolf now walking not quite alone.

nimbus.

nausicaä couldn't help but smile faintly at that. nêphos, she murmured, more to herself than to him. but whose ascent did he herald? her own? laughable.

she took the lead with an impish glance over her shoulder. too slow, the flash of her eyes said, and then her eyes were only for the path ahead. it only took a few steps forward for her to parse the scent which had drawn his attention. jackrabbit. a meager offering — unless it led them to its home.

with the sky darkening, this one would have only just emerged for the night. it would be wary, yes, but hungry. nausicaä lowered her nose to the ground, searching now for the grassy tang of shrubbery among the other scents.

Nimbus’s eyes narrowed slightly as he caught the faint smile that tugged at Nausicaä’s lips and the word she murmured—soft, distant, and meant for no one. His ears flicked forward, curious, but he let it pass without comment. Some thoughts weren’t meant to be shared.  

He raised his brow as she took the lead, her playful glance daring him to keep up. A faint snort escaped him, half amusement, half challenge. 

He followed her with silent steps, his own senses honing in on the trail she’d picked up. The jackrabbit’s scent was faint, but distinct—fresh and close. As Nausicaä lowered her nose to the ground, Nimbus moved to her flank, his movements fluid and deliberate.  

His pale yellow eyes scanned the darkening brush ahead, searching for the faintest hint of movement.  After a moment, he glanced at her, his gaze sharp but not unkind. Let’s see if you can keep up, he said with a teasing edge, his tone soft but charged with the thrill of the hunt.  

Nimbus lowered himself into a crouch, his silvered fur blending into the shadows as he began to circle wide, giving her the lead but positioning himself to flank their quarry. The unspoken rhythm of a hunt began to fall into place, the first test of what two loners might achieve together.

heroes and gods, in the stories of old, were blessed with crowns of brilliant silver clouds. a halo to signal their divinity. how else would anyone know the difference between a man and a god?

but these things were far from her mind now. there was only nimbus, the jackrabbit, the hunt; the wintry flavor of the air and the night descending upon them with long inky shadows creeping in to replace sunset's ruddy murk.

she made no verbal response to his banter, but an answering smirk lingered a few moments on her lips. swift and lightfooted, she darted ahead with her body low to the ground, opting to flank the opposite side in a roundabout manner. the jackrabbit startled and tried to flee — but with wolves on either side, the creature hesitated, seeing that it had few options.

few were better than none, though; its hesitation would be its death.

As the jackrabbit hesitated, caught between the narrowing jaws of its would-be predators, Nimbus remained still, the tension in the air palpable. His sharp gaze flicked to her, a rare, almost approving flicker in his eyes.

Nimbus remained still for a moment longer, his eyes narrowing as the jackrabbit’s breath quickened in its panic. His muscles twitched with the urge to move, but he held himself in check, trusting in his instincts and the delicate dance of the hunt. Irene had already taken her position, her movements light and swift, creating the illusion of an encirclement that left the prey no clear escape.

He didn’t rush it. In the wild, a hasty move often meant failure, and Nimbus was no stranger to patience. 

As the jackrabbit's muscles tightened in preparation to dart left, Nimbus surged forward like a shadow unraveling, closing the distance in a swift, calculated burst of speed. He stayed low, his form skimming the earth, the wind parting as he moved through it with eerie quiet. He kept his focus on the jackrabbit’s back, watching for any sign of its next move.

His approach was like a coiled spring, waiting for the perfect moment. He knew the exact angle to strike, the precise distance that would maximize his chances of a clean catch. He let the rabbit make its first move, a futile attempt to flee, and in that instant, Nimbus was upon it.

With a powerful leap, he closed the gap in an instant, his paws slamming into the soft earth just beside the jackrabbit’s fleeing form. The creature had no room left to dodge, no path left to take. His jaws snapped shut with brutal precision, catching the prey before it could escape into the darkness.

we can finish this one up and then hop to the other thread if you want!

sounds good <3

she caught the shrieking jackrabbit in her teeth only seconds after nimbus. her own grip was taut but steady, not seeking to tear the creature into pieces but to find enough purchase on its neck for a merciful end. she grasped its loose skin first, then adjusted until she felt her jaws closing around that delicate joining between spine and skull.

a sharp crack ended its struggles. whether it was dead or not, nausicaä didn't know or care. she let it drop, catching a glimpse of the glassy gaze far beyond any further pain they might inflict.

then she tore a long strip of flesh from its back, and turned away to gnaw on the prize without a second glance.

Nimbus stood over the jackrabbit's still form, his chest rising and falling in steady rhythm from the brief but focused chase. He watched as Nausicaä delivered the final blow, her movements precise and unyielding. There was no hesitation in her—no sentimentality. It was something he could respect, even if the detached efficiency of it reminded him of the hunter he had become.  

When she tore a strip of flesh and turned away, Nimbus lowered his head, inspecting what remained of their catch. His pale yellow eyes lingered on the lifeless creature, its glassy gaze reflecting the finality of the cycle they had both spoken of earlier.  

He sank his teeth into the rabbit’s side, pulling free a portion for himself, but his eyes remained on Nausicaä as she gnawed on her prize. Efficient, he remarked, his voice low and measured. You don’t waste time—or effort. That’s rare.

Nimbus settled onto his haunches as he began to eat, his ears twitching at the subtle sounds of the forest around them. After a moment, he glanced at her again, something unreadable flickering in his gaze. You don’t seem like someone who’s just passing through. What keeps you moving, Nausicaä?

The question hung in the crisp air, soft but pointed, like the way a hunter tests the strength of the wind. He wasn’t sure if he was expecting an answer—or if he simply wanted to understand the path that had brought her here, to this forest, to him.

was he always so expressive, so filled with praise to give? nausicaä's ears flicked back, but she murmured her thanks nonetheless. she ate in silence for several long moments, letting his question hang in the air.

we're all running from something, aren't we, she glanced at him, answering more than questioning. her eyes only lingered for a second. you first.

she tore another piece of the meat away. if he was so eager to pry, if he was so eager to know, then surely he wouldn't mind baring his own scars at first meeting. surely he wouldn't mind showing her why he thought it so easy.

Nimbus watched her with a steady gaze, his posture relaxed but his expression inscrutable. The question—or was it an accusation?—hung between them, heavier than the night air. He wasn’t one to flinch from confrontation, but her words cut in a way he hadn’t anticipated. He let the silence stretch, as if testing whether she would break it herself. When she didn’t, he exhaled a breath, sharp and almost amused. 

He shifted his weight, settling into a crouch, his gaze drifting momentarily to the horizon. His voice softened, though it carried a distant edge, as if dredging up old memories he would rather leave buried. 

We all run, yes, he admitted, a bitter twist to his words. But I didn’t start this journey because I wanted to escape. I started because there was nothing left for me to stay for. His eyes flicked back to her, sharp and piercing.