Ankyra Sound i'm headed straight for the castle

because this is really pretty & i wanted eske to see it

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Eske had never been so far from home before. Her first trip out of Sleeping Dragon had taken the fierce Goufa all the way to the coast. She had no real purpose, she sought no one and nothing. She only wanted to venture out, only sought to sate her own personal curiosity. She did not have the wayward desire to wander; and why would she? She had her home on the Dragon, among her people, the want to establish herself and become something more than just another Gona but she was not Freyja and unlike her silver sister she was not prepped for leadership. Likely, this was probably, Eske realized with some reluctance (and jealousy) a good thing. She was aggressive and that in an of itself was likely not a good leadership quality. She was not the crown she was the crown's rabid guard dog. Still, Eske was not content to settle with her lot in life. It was achievable, she thought, and she would only count herself out of the running when she was dead.

At some point as she traveled through the Sound, the evening made it's shift to the darkness of night and solid earth gave way to pliable, cool sand underfoot. Startled, Eske withdrew her paw, took a step back and studied the foreign substance with unabashed contempt. What in the hell was it? The air had taken on a distinctly salty tang, a salty breeze whipping around her, chilly but very different from the ashy (and sometimes sulfuric) scents of the slumbering dragon. Tentatively, she pressed her paw into the sand and studied as her it sunk down in an inch or so in the dry sand before she pushed forth, heading towards the roar of whatever it was nearby. It was with some effort that she climbed a dune, cresting it's hill and saw the ocean for the first time. It was vast but that was not what stole the warrior's breath.

The water glowed blue, as if it had stars of it's own shining within it. She charged towards it boldly, wanting to investigate, to touch it, forgetting that winter was upon them and the water would likely be freezing cold. She ground her teeth together as she splashed in the in the bioluminescent tide, ignoring the numbing cold as she pranced out of the water's surf to inspect the blue stars (for she had no other word for them) that clung to her fur of her paws and long legs. “meizen” She laughed before she turned back to the ocean, her tail wagging behind her as she studied the stunning and ethereal phenomenon before her.

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Silently did the femme approach, glowing beneath the calm sky. There was another who called for her attention, though it wasn't a beckoning my voice but rather expression. It was the awe in the woman's eyes that pulled Djehanne in, though only a short chuff was offered as introduction. 
Before the pair sat a bed of blues which lit up the scene (it made for a decent break from the chilling grays that now dominated the Wilds). Djehanne looked at her companion, interested in what might've brought her here beside the pure, untouched beauty of nature's transitions.

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A short chuff broke over the gentle roar of the waves as they crashed upon the shore, drawing the Goufa's attention from the glow of the marine life clinging to her salt water drenched paws and legs. Entirely startled — and ashamed that she'd failed to take note of the pale apparition in her marvel of the beautiful waters — Eske's head snapped to the stranger, her ears alert atop her head, her hackles bristling along her spine and her lips curling back over her teeth. A low growl of warning left the Goufa's lips, her muscles pulling taunt as her posture altered to one that would allow her to attack quickly. The warning to stay back was clear in the girl's curl of her teeth, even if her low growl was lost upon the waves. Heda's words came back to her then: do not kill without reason (of course that wasn't the exact wording but it was close enough). The threat of her life was reason enough, surely, but as Eske's gaze assessed her again, clearer this time now that she was aware of the older woman's presence she did not seem to be overly threatening. Did that mean she didn't pose a threat? No. Eske wasn't the type to let her guard down but with her warning clear and concise she relaxed her posture a little bit. Wary, still, she did not entirely relent her caution. “Chon yu bilaik?” Eske demands in Trigedasleng, more or less her common tongue. It is only after a beat that she lets out an annoyed huff remembering that outsiders weren't likely to speak the language of her culture. “Who are you?” She repeats, this time in the shared language of these Wilds so the older woman might understand.

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Ila took a step back when the girl gave her defense, yet her own hackles remained lowered. As a snarl ripped across the other's maw, she tilted her head curiously, as if to see what about the frail woman could be so threatening. She wouldn't submit to a child, but she surely wouldn't attack one either. The question came of her identity yet the silence between them only grew.
Turning her attention away from the girl, Djehanne tilted her snout back toward the water and dipped in each paw for a chilling effect, then turned back and made a single print in the sand. That was who she was in the simplest of expressions: a lone print on the mask of the earth.

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Irritation bubbled up and seethed beneath the Goufa's skin as the pale woman tilted her head to stare at her, as if she could not understand why Eske had reacted with hostility. Eske's lip lifted once more as she eyed the older woman unabashed, uncaring that her expression contemplated if the other woman was unknowing. How else was she to react? With a smile and eagerness? With pleasant conversation? Perhaps, but Eske did not conform to social etiquette and she had no interest in being anything but cautious to strangers. She didn't know the woman from Eve...and this made her a threat regardless of how frail the spectre woman looked. Her frailty also garnered Eske's caution — was she ill? Did she not know how to fight? How to hunt? Why would she want to look so petite? Eske was taller than her mother and feminine in her build but her wiry muscles were hard and strong beneath her earthen agouti coat, physical evidence of her training and prowess.

Her demand was met with silence that Eske found to be further annoying. Was it so difficult to answer a question? Eske ghosted forward, hackles bristled again as the woman turned away from her, her muscles pulling taunt as she watched, suspiciously, as the woman dipped a paw in the water and pressed her soaked paw against the sand where the bioluminescent algae glowed the shape of her paw. Skeptical, Eske's gaze flickered to the woman's face. “That tells me nothing.” The Goufa snapped at the older woman who had ruined her enjoyment of Ankyra's shore; but then again Eske was neither easy to get along with nor was she overly social — no, that was Freyja's job. Eske was the warrior princess not the diplomatic and social princess.

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BOOP SCOOP *slides right in* i will play it as if the other wolf left and phas arrived shortly after

it was good to be home.

caiaphas had felt uneasy since her abrupt departure from saltwinter. while she missed deeply her sound, it felt as if a piece of her was fractured, absent -- a piece missing until her feet reunited with the cold sand of the beach.

the pale coywolf had not dared touch water since that day, and even being this close to the thundering depths caused her heart to quiver roughly. all the same she appreciated the ocean for what it was: a tumultuous, indiscriminate raw force of power. even after the ocean had nearly claimed her life, she was still in awe of it. even after seeing the raze of neon-blue patchwork of flagella move slowly like the soft rise and fall of a lumbering beast's belly a thousand times and then a thousand times again, caiaphas could still have her breath taken by it.

it appeared she was not alone in her idolatry; down by the wash she saw a lone figure. from the distance the form was but a shadow cut into a bright mosaic of blue -- as she drew closer she was able to see it was a youth. for a moment she felt her breath shakily drop; was it kevlyn, come at last to take her?

her hackles lifted and she silently curled her lower lip, though no sound braved between the crash of the waves. as she drew closer still it was evident it was not kevlyn, but a wolf unknown to her. for now she stared at the stranger, torn between unleashing batshit crazy hell and making friends: if it was alone things might be okay.. but if it had company, caiaphas was likely in trouble.

thanks for joining! <3

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The pale woman leaves as silently as she came, though Eske is not saddened by her departure and did not call out to her or stop her as she left. Good, Eske thought cruelly. Now she could return to admiring the bioluminescence that still clung to life among her fur. Idly, Eske wondered if they (whatever they were) would wash off or stop glowing. Or would she be doomed to look like a blue lit Christmas tree (if she knew what such a thing was) for the rest of her life? For now, the warrior princess deigned not to fuss over it too much. It would take her a while to make her way back up to Drageda and if it did not go away then perhaps, by then, she might have thought up something more clever than the truth: that she had been admiring the beauty of the bioluminescent shore and how it looked upon her fur. Normally, she was not so shallow. Typically, she did not care if she was well kept or her fur was battle mussed.

Her reprieve of company was doomed to be short lived, it seemed, when movement caught her eye and her sea blue-green gaze fell upon a new female in the distance. The older woman stared at her and utterly unfazed Eske stared back, watching with instinctual caution. As she did with the silent woman she inquired, “Who are you?” Dropping Trigedasleng in favor of the common tongue, ready to assume that this stranger didn’t speak her native tongue either. Eske only hoped that this one could respond in return instead of leaving a paw print upon the sand that the waves had long since stretched up with grasping and greedy fingers and smoothed out as it receded back into itself. As if the eerily silent apparition of a woman hadn't even been there at all.

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caiaphas had done all of the creepy studying she needed to do when eske spoke, and although there was no fear in the young wolf's voice, caiaphas could detect a faint trace of an accent. (lmkifthatsok) as if the wolf were foreign, or the language she spoke was not her own. she was right to be cautious, for the grim she-wolf before her was no ally; even the way her fur stood at perpetual end seemed to suggest that caiaphas was, quite simply, an unpleasant presence.

the agouti's inquiry evinced a slow, owlish blink from the she-wolf, who looked agoggle by the question. caiaphas assumed people should just know it; she'd been here long enough she might as well melt into the cliffside and become part of it. "caiaphas." came the slow reply, though the question that followed was hot on the heels of her lackluster reply: "who are you? why are you on my beach? who was with you? where is the pack that was here?" she fired off each question as if they were accusations, already feeling highly affronted her beach had suffered the presence of others in her absence.

noting an slight accent is totally fine (and probably makes sense that she'd have one, tbh lol). ;p

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Eske watched as her question drew a slow blink from the other female …who looked like a wolf and yet …not. As Eske had never seen a coywolf before she did not make the connection. Eventually, a name hung in the air between them. Caiaphas. She did not carry upon her the scent of a pack, like the silent woman before her. Eske’s tail flicked against her hocks as she assessed the woman carefully as a series of questions was flung the warrior princess’ way. A low huff left the Drakru’s lips as the woman proclaimed the beach to be her’s. That was funny because there was no scent of claim upon it, as to which the answer of the inconsistency was soon answered. Where was the pack that once claimed the Sound? Perhaps the beach had once belonged to this Caiaphas but as far as Eske was concerned while no scent markers lingered: no longer did it belong to her. “I don’t know,” Eske bit in reply, bristling ever so slightly at the questions that had sounded more like accusations fired her way as if Caiaphas was a one woman firing squad.

“—but they are long gone.” Which was obvious enough. Tact had never been Eske’s strong suit. She lacked in Gyda (and Freyja’s) ability to be diplomatic. She always had and she always would. Still, the fact was obvious enough and Eske did not think the svelte woman before her to be dull by any means of the word. “I do not know her name. She did not speak. She is no friend of mine.” Eske spoke, her salmon pink tongue running across her teeth. Eske was glad that the silent woman was gone (as rude as that undoubtedly was) and she had yet to discern how she felt about her new companion. That remained to be determined. “I don’t mean your beach or you any harm,” And truly she didn’t. She was just minding her own business. “I am looking for my siblings,” Eske didn’t particularly want to delve into the whole story, especially not with a stranger. Of course she realized that anyone that went to investigate Sleeping Dragon would find it uninhabited and know why right away. It had been almost a week since Drageda had settled and still there no sign of Freyja or Hvitserk. Eske’s little trip wasn’t entirely sanctioned (as she was supposed to wait for a search party) but to no one’s surprise she hadn’t and didn’t. For a short while the beauty of the bioluminescent shore had distracted her from her true purpose and a slow nag of guilt began to fester at her. She was on a personal mission not a simple exploration trip. Her tail twitched and for a moment her ears slicked back to rest at half mast atop her skull before they pushed forward, alert. “I took a few moments to admire the shore.” She’d never grown up on or near the ocean and it was strange in a way but she found that she kind of liked it all the same. It was slightly bitter to admit that out loud (to a stranger no less) but it was evident enough, even without her speaking it out loud.

“I am Eske Kom Drakru.” She introduced herself, finally, with an air of pride. She had recently shed her mother’s surname in favor of one that befitted her much more. She was not a Viking and it had no longer felt right carrying it around as if she were. She had addressed Caiaphas' questions out of the order in which the woman had demanded them but Eske believed she had addressed them all, nevertheless.

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