Gyrfalcon's Keep bo'ijani

The silent woman offered her no words, superseding verbal communication with formal gestures. Her gesture was simple: a soft sweep of the chin towards the darkened Arcadia that hovered above them. Olive’s forest-hued eyes followed the woman’s action, landing upon the stars that glinted above. They shone strongly that night, their ancient lights softly luminating the duo and bathing them in their eternal wisdom. There was nothing quite like opening yourself to the heavens and letting it guide you - it was affirming and soothing, like a mother who cradled her baby. Since Olive had the luck to be born a wolf, she was intrinsically  connected to the sky and often felt compelled to sing her songs unto the moon, the night goddess. As a women, her internal and hormonal rhythms were in lock-step with the moon and its divine feminine cycles of waxing and waning. Olive wondered if the white wolf before her recognized this strength, which lay inside her as well.

“You and I are two of a kind, it seems.” Olive’s gaze fell back upon the woman and she spoke softly. 

The bite of the cold dulled her sensitive nose somewhat, but the thin air allowed scents to evanesce in a nearly palpable manner. Olive pulled forth a vigorous inhale, taking pleasure in the crispness that drew past the back of her throat and swirled within her lungs. Black nostrils tingled with the shewolf’s scent; her scent was thick and heavy but was unencumbered by the bouquet of a pack. Olive was momentarily dismayed, as she had been looking forward to meeting more of her Donnelaith and Blackrock Depth allies - but Olive’s attention was drawn back as the shewolf fed Olive’s question back onto her. 

More silence? Olive canted her head towards the alabastrine wolf. Olive felt the need to talk, to provide the words that would fill the space between them. It was not out of a selfish need to tell her own story, but… Olive couldn’t really explain it.

“I wander,” the sylph responded matter-of-factly with a toss of the head. “My family and I, we are forest wolves. But when the trees speak too loudly, I retreat here. With the Gryfalcons, it is usually a squawking bedlam - but I love it. It seems the oncoming winter has either silenced them or driven them from their keep.”

“Do you have a family, too?”