Horizon Ridge you're a new song baby

tagging @Samothes like we discussed in chat but anyone else can jump in too :)

It had taken a while to pick her way down the mountains, especially in her weakened state. But muscle memory acquired. . .well, sometime, somewhere. . .served her well, and she soon found herself at the foot of the range, among a group of disheveled boulders, ranging in size from pebbles to gargantuan. Climbing atop one of the larger specimens, which had a flat top, she peered away from the crags behind her.

A gust of salt-laden wind hit her, and she breathed deep, closing her eyes as if in prayer. The sea. The scent of it--the sight of it, for she could see the rolling green-grey expanse just a few miles away--embraced her, as if she were returning home after a long and arduous journey.

Clumsily, Snowe slid off the rock and began to slink through the landscape, looking for prey--or, at least, carcasses abandoned by vultures. Her stomach had began to rumble with hunger toward the end of yesterday, and she was determined to at least find a snack. She did not think she had the strength to hunt big game, especially alone, but if a stray hare should head her way. . .

She kept her amber eyes on the horizon throughout. A small voice inside her was urging toward the sea. She must listen, she must go.

it is nippy today, he thinks, drawing from the blood-sap forest onto the shore, still interested in developing his mental map of his new home. too, he keeps his eyes peeled for others: potential packmates, yes, and one in particular (he would not say his feelings for the fey run deep, being somewhat stunted with women; she is a friend merely). 

he does not find her, but amongst the chaotic remnants of rock samothes catches wind of another. curiously he draws closer. a woman, he thinks, and with the most interesting - burn scar, perhaps? he can't quite tell at this angle but the scholar has the presence to not run up in surprise. instead he follows her at a diagonal, allowing their paths to naturally intersect as she draws closer to the sea. when he reaches a respectable distance samothes lets loose a calm chuff of greeting, his rosey gaze watching the marked weakness in her movements with intrigue.

phone post !! hope it makes sense!!

makes sense to me :)

Movement nearby disturbed her from the search for food, and her head snapped round, looking for the source. She caught a pair of rose-gold eyes staring back at her, attached to a slim young male. He looks like a. . . Snowe struggled for the word as she looked him over. Angular features, ruddy coat--what would you call that? A foxe. The word came to her mind like a twinkling star, settling in for later use.

Cautiously, she padded toward him, tail neutral and gaze wary. Her wobbly gait belied her weakness, but she tried to remain as steady as possible, keeping her eyes on him the whole way. When she was a few tail's lengths away, she stopped, regarding him coolly.

"Hello," Snowe managed, dipping her head in an infinitesimal nod of greeting. "You--you--" Damn. Her brain went suddenly awry, like it had several times coming down the mountain, and she lost all ability to form her next sentence. Frustrated, she closed her jaw with an audible snap, giving him instead a gimlet look.

Who are you? her amber eyes read. She hoped he got the silent message.

 as ever, the wraith's eyes are studious as he watches the stranger. her movements are odd - jarring, almost, and coupled with the strange pattern of singed fur she carries, it is easy enough to hypothesize. lightning doesn't come to him - but some sort of traumatic injury, and something unusual at that. there is no sympathy in his gaze, only a cool sort of thoughtfulness. 

 the funny-odd speech matches her uneven walk, but her eyes are sharp and samothes is not dense. "samothes," he says with a nod and a half-smirk, "pleasure." for once he drops the messeda - after his talk with thelxiope it doesn't seem so necessary to carry that weight, especially in this land where it means nothing. it's rather freeing. "what happened to you?" he asks rather brusquely; no need to beat around the bush with it.

Samothes. The name ran pleasantly through her mind like a trickle of cold water, settling into her damaged synapses. One mental snap of an image, and this foxe-wolf was "Samothes." At his greeting, she gave another nod, and the tip of her tail stirred in a slight wag.

What happened to you? Rage burned sudden and hot in her veins, racing through her mind like a brushfire. . . .what? what had. . .happened. . .to her? As if she were a wounded animal?! "Nothin'," she snapped, eyes flashing in a challenge. Then, as uncertainty washed over her again, her face fell. It couldn't have been nothing. She was so broken, and this wolf so. . .not. Was this her fate--trapped in a clumsy body, a hazy mind?

"What're you. . .I. . .dunno," Snowe mumbled lamely, casting her eyes downward. She looked back up at. . .Samothes, that was it. And frowned, the corners of her mouth drooping more than ever. "I'm Snowe," she introduced herself, one ear flicking backwards, irritable but resigned to her situation.

it seems his blunt question is unappreciated; he inclines his head, not quite apologising but certainly deferring to her. perhaps it is a question she has been asked often and is tiring of hearing it, he surmises, or perhaps - ah, perhaps she doesn't know. "quite all right," he says reassuringly, eyes trailing the particular droop of her lip. "i'm no medic, anyhow." 

samothes likes to imagine himself an advisor-of-sorts (that is the introduction he gave thelxiope, anyhow, and his intentions with constantine), though he lacks the trademark messeda compassion. still, there is a difference between one without sympathy and one without empathy, and seeing her distress, the slim male softens his expression slightly. "snowe," he repeats. "as i said, i'm no medic, but perhaps it would help you to know the cause of your..." he casts about for a phrase, settling on, "injury." clearly something had happened to the she-wolf - setting aside her odd mannerisms, her fur was clear burned away in large patches and he didn't need to be a medic to figure some trauma had occured. "do you remember anything?" samothes prompts in a slow voice (referring, of course, to the actual incident - unaware of any actual memory loss on her part).

He was calm--incredibly so--and that in turn calmed her. Feeling her heart rate start to slow and her breathing relax, she blinked back at him for a couple moments, taking in his words. Yes, it would help me to know what had happened! For a moment, she wondered whether he had bore witness to her trouble, and opened her mouth to ask.

But. . .no. He couldn't know. He would have helped her then. . .right?

"Woke up on one of those. . .mountains. . .over there," Snowe said, canting her head back, towards where she had came from. "Traveled down here 'cause it seemed. . .right." Good enough explanation as any. The sea's bosom had seemed so enticing from atop the cold crags.

"But. . .no, don't remember what happened. Not just that I don't remember what happened," she added, voice trembling harder than ever. "Don't 'member what happened before, either." She cast her gaze directly at Samothes, her amber eyes haunted. "Woke up, but don't 'member falling asleep. Or. . .before."

Icy terror consumed her once more. This had to be some sort of sick nightmare. What wolf had no history?!

 the woman seems to settle, though whether that's due to him is harder to make a call on. he remains patient, quiet, allowing her to string the words together, his eyes thoughtful as they flick to follow the movement of her head. samothes has never been to the mountains, but his first thought is that she must have fallen - only that doesn't account for the odd burned away fur. if only he were a medic. 

the plot thickens: snowe cannot recall anything. he shifts his gaze back to her as if she were a puzzle he is trying to solve (and may or may not mumble a "fascinating" very quietly under his breath). "i believe that happens in response to trauma, sometimes," the scholar says in the same calmed tones as before. "unfortunately i've no experience with - how recovery, or attempted recovery, would go." truthfully he doesn't know if there is a way to regain memory once it's lost. 

"but," he says, noting her mounting anxiety, "whether you eventually regain your memories or not - you are still here. you can find yourself again." hm. it doesn't do to have this injured being wandering alone.. and yet he hesitates to suggest she come to ravensblood with him. it is cruel of him, perhaps, but she's not a very practical addition to the pack, and he's not exactly looking to take on a pet project. (if he knew of thelxiope's impending conversation with her, perhaps he'd be more inclined.) instead, the wraith hums slightly. "have you an idea of where you'd like to go next?" he asks, thinking that he could at least steer her toward the other claim by ravensblood if need be.

Where to next? Beyond the seashore, she hadn't thought of it. Her desire to reach the ocean had overwhelmed all other trains of thought, and now that she was so close, she did feel the emptiness start to creep up on her again.

"Was gonna go to the beach," she told Samothes. "Get close to the sea. After that. . .dunno."

She didn't want to go back to the mountains, that was for sure. It was clear that whatever fate had befallen her was hidden in those crags. And while the beach was comforting, she couldn't stay forever: all big game to be had was on the plains or in the forest. She needed to eat well, if she was to survive through the impending winter.

Snowe wondered whether the foxe-wolf lived nearby, or was merely passing through. "Where you from?" she asked, wondering if maybe he would lead her towards a home of his.

the sea... the sea. if only he knew thelxiope's wearabouts - had she not introduced herself as a healer? alas. perhaps samothes is not completely devoid of his genetic-borne kindness, for he feels his resolve begin to weaken. "not far from here," the scholar answers truthfully. "to the west. the forest." he does not mention the would-be pack - though the scents of others surely mingle on his coat, he still is reluctant to commit to bringing her somewhere. 

"is the sea important to you?" samothes asks, switching tracks - hoping to curb any hopeful aspirations to her accompanying him back. besides - his interests still lay in the delicate probing of her addled mind. he doubts she will be able to answer, but still... perhaps it is associated with something of import, memory or otherwise.

She wavered for a second, wondering how to answer his question. Yes, the sea had drew her out from the shadow of the mountains. . .but why? It had importance to her in some way, but she did not know what way.

"Just seemed right," Snowe said, lifting her shoulders and letting them fall in a shrug. "Dunno. Maybe I'm from there. . .originally."

She looked to the west and indeed found a sprawling, dark forest, a thick wall of green separating the beach from the plains. He had not traveled so far to be here, then. And he knew the area well.

"How's the weather by the sea?" The question seemed absurd, inane. What she really wanted to know is if a winter spent there would be more or less tolerable for a lone wolf in her. . .condition.

to his relief she follows the change in topic easily. 'just seemed right' does not offer much to go on, but... "we are creatures borne of instinct," he murmurs thoughtfully. "perhaps there is a reason for yours." she does not smell of the sea, but she does not smell much of anything. there may be some lingering secret home there but it has been singed away with the scent of burned fur and damaged flesh (and even if she were to still smell of the vale, samothes does not know who or what that would be). 

the more she talks, the more clear her sentences become, he notes. a good sign for sure, though he had not doubted given the spark in her eyes. "crisp," he answers, "a tad breezy. i've heard the salty air can clear the mind." an old wives tale to be sure, but he has at least found the ocean's breeze to be refreshing. the scholar studies her and then adds carefully, "but it will not stay that way for much longer, with winter's onset."

A frown came to her face as Samothes described the beach. So even the seashore was not immune to the throes of winter. She had thought perhaps not, but had held on to a thread of hope that it could be a haven for her, were she to remain alone throughout the coming months.

"Okay," she breathed, trying to mask her disappointment. Snowe gave him a direct look, trying to read his expression. She didn't know whether he was inviting her somewhere, or the opposite: if he was trying to rid himself of her.

She knew she would be a burden to any pack she joined, at least for a while. Her strength was not such that she could hunt, she was too skinny to be a fighter, and she had no other knowledge that would be of interest to a group of wolves trying to survive. She would not be welcome at most borders. But, perhaps, someone would take pity. Maybe in a week, when she was more fit. . .

"I'm gonna go, now," Snowe said, casting a glance over to the sea. "Thank you. . .for talkin'. And listenin'. Maybe we'll meet again." With a nod of her head and a flick of her tail, she hobbled away without another look back.

If he cared enough, he would follow. If not--and she didn't blame him in the least if he didn't--well, she would find her own way.

 

fading byeeee see you soon :D