Dawnlark Plains give me blood and rage and a heart for horror

@Sunspot

The world is much colder in the taiga than anywhere she’s been before that she can’t help but wonder just how far she’s traveled. What distance has she gone from Silvertip? From Easthollow? She bites her lip and closes her eyes. From Grayday? Her chest hurts in a way she’s not found a solution for. There is no herb or remedy she can give or apply to ease some of it. Time is all she’s been able to offer and it is proving only to get worse. Time is meant to heal all wounds but instead it lingers close and picks at raw scabs and the ache behind her breast.

Cascada drops her gaze as the light dusting of snow chills her feet and breaks with each step. The low plain offers a wind chill that must keep it from melting through what should be the warmer months. Uncertain where to really go from there, she continues on despite the ache in her feet. The change in weather offers a little distraction from the constant pang of hunger she’s yet to properly refuel. Without a proper place to rest her head and set up camp for more than a day or two, she cannot properly feed herself—or @Drogon, despite his independency—so she continues onward through one unfamiliar territory to the next.

The huntress had mixed feelings about being alone again. It was freeing, to have nothing to hold her back or slow her down. She enjoyed the brisk pace she set for herself, and the absence of responibility for her packmates. Watching over Heartha had been terrible for both of them - she wondered if Grayday saw that, now.

But, she supposed there was still no excuse for what had transpired. She should've been paying more attention to the other women, dull as it had been. She'd thought Heartha couldn't cause too much trouble on her own, and that, as long as Sunspot checked up on her, she would be fine.

Apparently not.

Sunspot sighed and picked up her pace, hoping to outrun such thoughts. The bad part about being alone was that there was nothing to distract her from her guilt - or her loneliness. So the woman was glad to see the ruddy blip far off in the distance, making her own purposeful way through the plains. Changing her trajectory slightly, Sunspot made a beeline for the other wolf.

"Hello," she called out, her tail wagging in a friendly manner. She would've preferred the company of a male, but beggers couldn't be choosers.

Cascada does not change her path when she sees the smudge in the distance developing into a wolf. At first, she does not give the other much attention but when she realizes she’s getting closer with intent, her ears slick back and she’s glancing in her direction until it is too obvious an interaction is bound to happen. She slows to a stop, ignoring the throbbing ache of her feet. When they are on the move, they start to numb but standing in place is a reminder of what she’s always running from.

“Hey,” she says soon after, nodding her head a little and offering an equally friendly shake of her tail. She is free from Silvertip in this meeting as well as that of a child, finding a little comfort in the unknown (and adult) before her. Cascada thinks her scent may be familiar but the distance she has traveled puts a stop to the notion and she brushes away the thought. “I’m Cascada,” she introduces a beat later.

Sunspot came just close enough to get a good whiff of the stranger - and she almost decided that she knew the other woman, before she realized she couldn't place a face to the scent. At least, she couldn't until now. "That's a pretty name," she complimented, privately (and sullenly) noting that it went will with her pretty face. If she hadn't been itching for a distraction, Sunspot might've left it at that. She was getting closer to her season, and younger, prettier females weren't exactly her favorite company right then. But Sunspot wasn't even sure Cascada was old enough to be competition, and when she tried to stop and be objective about these things, she remembered that she wasn't planning on having a litter anytime soon either way.

"I'm Spot," she introduced. "Nice to meet you. Sorry if I interrupted a hunt or something - I've been going kind of crazy with no one to talk to, lately."

It'd only been a few days since she departed from Morningside, but although she hadn't been the most social creature there, she was certainly missing the camaraderie, now.

The other compliments her name and she feels a burn in her cheeks, causing her tail to swish with more speed. “Thank you,” she says quietly, carefully taking another step forward to make their conversation a little more lax. “I wasn’t hunting,” she explains, brushing off the apology. There hadn’t been much to disrupt except her aimless talking. She’s attempting to find somewhere that resembles something more permanent and the open plain does little to offer much shelter and protection. What lays before her in the unknown may hold such promise but it can always wait.

“I’m looking to find somewhere to settle, I guess. I’m tired of searching for a home,” she explains. Her words are vague, partly for her own guidance. There have been no other packs that she’s come across but it isn’t necessarily what she’s looking for either. A small patch a land, perhaps, for her and Drogon to call home-base at most. “You’re alone?”

Sunspot feels herself relaxing, the longer she talks to the other woman. She seems sweet, and that eases her inherent irritation at seeing another woman at this time of year. When Cascada stepped closer, Sunspot did, too, tail wagging again to assure the other of her friendliness.

"I get what you mean," Sunspot sighed. It was so hard to feel content, and so easy to get complacent. "I got so tired of it I settled for things I should've have, I think," she went on, deciding as she spoke that she would not be making the same mistake again. "So I guess... I guess I am alone."

Her ears swivelled uncertainly and then drooped in sudden relaxation. "What about you? Are you alone?"

She’s often too restless to settle. Too much remain unknown that she sometimes clings briefly to the idea of another. Her grip is never strong, often releasing when things become off-kilter, and she finds herself here instead of trapped on the island with wolves she doesn’t even know. She misses @Anatha at times though she is certain the developing pack can take care of the girl better than she could alone. Drogon has filled the void of loneliness, though, and she’s thankful for that space being taken up.

“Kind of, but… not really,” she answers, though she realizes it is confusing. “There is a child tagging along with me. We’ve been scouting out the area. Um, if you want to tag along with us, you can—it might make things a little easier,” she tells the woman, uncertain and wholly prepared for rejection. As much as she’d like to cling to hope that another, able-bodied adult will very much give them an extra boost, she knows their appeal is little.

Doubt clouds her expression before she can stop it. Although Sunspot had already felt a stirring of matronly concern in her breast to hear about the woman going it alone with only a kid for support, she wasn't sure sticking with Cascada would be the best thing to do.

"I don't really play well with others," she said with a tiny smile, her tail wagging a little as she went on: "My brother would tell you I'm bossy."

But she was lonely, and Cascada was nice, and if it was only the three of them, she was sure she could find a way to work with the other woman in a way that would leave both of them with their spirits intact.

"There's something I have to do, anyway," she added. "When I'm done, though, I'll stop here again. If you're still around, I mean. I might not be the best company, but I'm sure we'd be useful to each other."

As if reality syncs up with her mind, Sunspot gives her a light version of rejection and Cascada offers a weakened smile and slow wag of her tail. She feels the piercing behind the back of her eyes but a slow breath eases it out of mind. As much as she wants to throw this meeting into the failure bin, she holds her thoughts together and shrugs it off. Perhaps it is for the best, too, for she struggles to picture herself with another by her side. It’s a matter of time for Drogon doesn’t need her anymore anyway and she’ll be alone again.

“Okay,” she offers in return, though she doesn’t have anything else to say. “I’m not even sure where I’m going, heh,” she adds, awkwardly glancing away.

Sunspot smiles thinly, feeling the temperature drop a few degrees between them. "Well, you're looking at a master tracker," she declares. "I'll only be a week or so. There should still be enough of a trail for me to find you."

She looks out over the horizon, suddenly wishing she didn't have to go to the coast. It would be so easy to just forget about the stupid trip and start her own life. She'd been living for others for far too long.

"I'll come back," she decided, looking back at Cascada with a decisive glint in her eyes. "And if I find you, it's meant to be."

Sunspot seems sure of herself in a way that makes Cascada feel a lot smaller. The older woman seems so much more sure of herself than she could imagine and she flutters a smile upon her features anyway. She nods, once, and tries to swallow the lump in her throat. “I’ll see you around,” she calls as the other retreats, moving in the direction Cascada had originally come and she lingers for a while before setting on once more.