Dahozhoni Meadow forgive me peter

hi all <3 i hope you'll accept my darling menthe for her very first thread in the wilds! and bare with me as i remember how to write a wolf and use HTML ... lol  

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If the wind carried a prayer of her downfall, Menthe was sure she could feel it between the tufts of fur at her nape. It held malice in it's gust, unusual to the kind, spring breeze that she had already grown accustomed to this season. It whispered its ill intention, sung straight to the Gods, delivered right back down to Earth. As far as the midnight nymph was concerned, her birth was blessed by Zeus himself. Gifted with beauty straight from Aphrodite and swiftness from Hermes. That is, at least, what her mother always praised. She'd hum it softly as Menthe drifted to sleep each night. The context of her birth perhaps would give more meaning to this, but Menthe didn't need to ask for metaphors. She knew it all to be true. 

A prayer of demise at her expense was but empty words; a God would not turn their back on such a creation, after all. But Menthe felt the hatred from millions of miles away. Embedding their dirty claws into the air that swirled around her. If paranoia could plant a seed, it perhaps had sprouted long ago, no matter her attempts to stomp down it's stem. Besides, the lions in sheeps' clothing could not reach her here. Evident by the lack of familiar scents. She'd gone without scenting a single known wolf for months... and they were few and far between. But she knew she was onto something when the wilds began to pump the scents of marked borders her way. This was civilization. This was new life. 

New life for her as well. 

As Menthe paused the epic monologue that reeled through her ever-creative and self-centered mind, she paused to feel the grass beneath her moon-coated paws. The wind stilled as she gazed upon rain clouds a few hours north, she could see them rolling in beyond the green landscape. To her east, she spied the red sand desert that she had carefully skirted around. Sand was not foreign to the coastal fae, but without the ocean Menthe was certain she would lose her way. How any wolf made way without the beauty of the green earth was beyond her. 

Her pointed ears flicked forwards, soaking in her surroundings as she began to plot the next direction she would take. She'd been traveling North forever, would it be bad luck to take a left turn now? Without considering it any longer, she started forwards again, her athletic frame rippling beneath her dark coat. Just as she soon as she started, she slowed, noticing something shift in her peripherals...