Ankyra Sound no man's sky

On borders. <3

 

The brine had reached his nostrils before he had even caught sight of the familiar jutting cliffs that rose around the pack lands of the shadow-faced waif. The ghostly male huffed. His brows narrowed on his skull and he could feel his pelt prickle with unease.
 
It had been a year since the savage man had taken it upon himself to see her. Still, in that year she had been a woman who returned to his mind on a regular basis. Kierkegaard could not fault himself for it; he was merely a creature driven by instinct. She had shown him the only companionship that he could stand outside of his own blood. Even then, he had almost craved it in his absence. @Caiaphas was a spindly little woman with a peculiar attraction to the sea and a wicked cleverness to her mind. She was born of the same fire as he. And this was his excuse for seeking her out once more. This time, however, he was not injured and he did not carry with him the remnants of a stolen child. He was alone. Without reason.
 
Drawing himself forward on lengthy limbs, the ashen male drew his golden gaze upwards to peer curiously at the jutting cliffs. They seemed more formidable than he had recalled. Flicking his pink tongue across his leathery lips, he lowered his head and trudged forward. Once he found himself nearing their borders, his long strides stopped and he stared into the entrance. Would she come or would the ghostly man be forced to call to her?  

<3 sorry for the wait.. thank you for starting!

she had frozen stark still when the scent played in the nimble breeze, her mule-length ears cast in an askance expression. kierkegaard. tentatively she inhaled as the fickle wind darted about her until she was sure -- and then, she was running.

all manner of cataclysm and ruination had happened since she had seen him last; the shore was reaved, the forests plundered -- but he was the same. smokeborn and ashen colored, just as rawboned as the day he had left limping from her den. she slowed to a trot as he noticed her approach, her lips pursed still in a faint expression of shocked surprise. he stood before the entrance to the coven as if some uninvited ghost, and even from this distance caiaphas could see the simmering gold of his gaze. "i thought you were dead." she breathed, her breath ragged as she struggled to regain her wind. "where did you go?"

You have nothing to apologize for!

 

Her scent struck the wind, flitting across his nostrils for only a second before it was whisked away. The ashen brute lifted his skull and drew his breath in sharply, hoping to capture it once more. His golden globes danced along the entrance to the secluded oceanic pack. If only he did not risk attack by entering their lands uninvited. If only he could lug his ragged form across their borders and find her himself. Snorting, the pale creature held his ground and waited until the rapid sound of paws striking sand reached his lengthy ears. Drawing them forward atop his skull, Kierkegaard locked his gaze with the dark waif who raced towards him with sharp yellow eyes and an expression that he could not read. But he was washed with relief and his broad shoulder seemed to slump slightly as she neared him.
 
“I thought you were dead.” He blinked slowly at her, a frown winding its way onto his dark lips. Her breathing was heavy and her words were washed by the rasp in her lungs. Drawing his ears back only slightly, in an apologetic manner, the pale brute took a step forward and breathed heavily, drawing her in. For a heartbeat, he seemed captivated by her small and threadbare figure. The Sairensu male thought for a moment that she was not real, but that he had imagined her there. But her final words struck him from his thoughts and he shook his head.
 
“I traveled many places,” he answered her genuinely, though the response was vague and perhaps a little disquieting. Furrowing his brows on his forehead, the great ghost took another step closer to the sea wench and lowered his skull. “It would take time to tell you,” he then added, though the final remark was made open-ended. If she wished to hear, he would recount his tales of the past year. If she held anger in her heart for him and for leaving without a word, he would accept that scorn and leave. But he did not want to.

caiaphas had not expected him to seem shameful -- his lowered head and quiet answer struck her as contrite. she had been disappointed to lose a friend, but had not found anger in his absence; the world had a strange way of revolving and returning what was shaken into normalcy, and today seemed no exception. as he stepped closer to her she lifted her head slightly, trying to gauge from his features the myriad of unreadable and vague inferences in his tone or features. "time is all we have, until we don't." the coywolf replied, her voice bland and matter of fact. "are you back for good?"

The dark-hooded woman spoke of time as though it were a simple thing. His muzzle crinkled slightly at her words and he huffed a short chuckle. As plain as her comment regarding time was, it was laced in validity. Perhaps that was all they really did have, in the end.
 
Another question dropped from her lips and the ashen ghost turned his gaze to hers, allowing it to linger there. “I would like to be,” he responded with a slow nod of his head. “The destitution here though…” and he trailed off, furrowing his brows. The lack of prey in their lands made it difficult to survive as a loner. And the spine had been disbanded. Kierkegaard did not owe his loyalties to the wolves of that pack. He had no interest in following them to their new home. The only other creature he had taken interest in was standing before him.

@Kierkegaard thank you for being so patient <3<3

the plain thing had watched the ironborn male, attentive to the draw of his features and the supple crease of his brow. he was right; the wild-lands were beyond destitute, their faces laid bare for the scorched sun and the landscape as unforgiving as any wolf's teeth. caiaphas had never considered how other wolves fared, but saltwinter she knew all too well was facing the slow threat of eventual starvation. 

"it is this way everywhere." she rejoined solemnly, a torn ear flicked forward as she subtly looked over the male's frame and assessed his health. "there's not much for food, but the sea has been a boon for us lately."

<333

The woman bewildered him. She was as savage and vile as any he could imagine coming across, but the ghostly male had found a sense of belonging with her. It was as if he could feel the common ground that they shared. Kierkegaard did not have to try. He simply had to exist, and he could appreciate Caiaphas for her own life and spirit. Simplicity at its finest.
 
Drawing his ears forward, the rangy male listened as the canary-eyed woman spoke of how the famine had ravaged the entire Teekon. His brow remained creased over his fiery gaze, and his leathery lips held fast in a straight line. It was disappointing, but he had traveled inward and had seen nothing but the same; trees stripped bare of their leaves and a startling lack of prey. He wondered how long the wilds had been in such a state but opted not to inquire. It would be a sickly thought if they were to have been starving for much longer than a month.
 
“I would imagine the sea would provide well for those who knew her benefits,” he remarked carefully, lifting a brow high over a single eye. He had never been much of a hunter in the waves. The length of his stride belonged to that of the high crags and devastating drops of the mountains. “And what will you do if the sea no longer provides, Caiaphas?” the brute inquired.

omg kierke those colors look good on u *pet*

kierkegaard's question went unanswered for a time; his inquiry brought forth a wealth of questions caiaphas stonily refused to acknowledge. instead she resigned to inspecting the powerful frame of her old friend, the fierce leanness of his limbs and the hulking predatory grace of his stature. a direct contrast to the streamlined, dauphine form she possessed.

"starve." the reply was simple despite the time taken to answer it; one would have thought she had been scheming some elaborate answer given the moments she had painstakingly taken to prepare it. she shrugged, rolling her shoulders with the hapless mein of a defeated person.

The silence that fell between them after his inquiry was not an uncomfortable one. While the pallid brute did believe her to be thinking of a response, there was no timer on it; his company would last as long as she enjoyed it. When at last she did answer him, it was curt but managed to convey enough. The man shook his ragged head back and forth and chuckled softly. The timbre of his voice rumbled inside of his chest like distant thunder. He could not fault her for her candidness; it was one of the reasons he enjoyed her so very much. Perhaps he should not have inquired about the possibility of losing their source of food and security. The ashen man was one to conjure hypotheticals, if only to assure himself that he would survive even in the worst of situations.
 
“I do not believe you will allow yourself to go so easily,” he grunted, the ghost of a smile still lingering on his lips. He had been wrong before, though; even his sister had surprised him with her actions. Finding himself perturbed by the thought of his sibling, he wondered briefly what it would feel like to simply not live. It was enough to cause the ragged man to shudder and his skin to prick.