Herbalists' Cache pussy wagon

For days, she tries to find the soft hum of music she keeps hearing. No matter what direction she goes, it doesn’t get any louder—or any quieter—and eventually she gives up. She left the aspen forest entirely, moving north with some reluctance and the sound doesn’t change. Part of her wants to give up and accept the low sound but her feet keep moving anyway, unable to fight the urge to find it.

Not knowing exactly how she’d gotten to the aspen forest weeks ago at this point, she expects the territory above to trigger some memories but she can’t grasp them. Instead, she explores the territory anyway, hoping to jog her mind and find the right spot to open everything up. Had she simply ran until she blacked out, landing somewhere enough to hit her head? To see her mother in the aspen forest, though surely that had been a dream?

Hunger takes over after a while and she finds a single tree with fruit to bear, and large, round fruit dropped to the ground. It’s not meat, or anything with warmth her stomach craves, but in this moment she does not care. It is edible enough. Slowly, the girl lowers to the ground and puts one between her paws, licking at it gingerly to get a taste before she pierces the skin with her teeth, and a mix of sweet and sour pours out on her tongue in an oddly satisfying way.

Home - if one could even call it that - had been stifling. She was born to fill a role but her heart was elsewhere. Who wanted to spend the rest of their life recording events that have already come to pass? It was incomprehensible to the fleet-footed Renatus. So she left at a tender age. The only guidance she's had since is the benevolence of strangers and instinct. Which isn't to say she has not had her fair share of trouble before but it was best not to contemplate it. The present takes precedence.

A large number of wolves in this particular area was what drew her here, to Teekon. She passed by two packs (maybe more!) before coming here, to a forest dappled in gloominess. Even with the cloudy sky, this place breathed. It had a mystical sort of quality to it. She prowled her way through the trees and shrubbery, taking in various scents. Lots of herbaceous plants made their home here. It might be a good idea to keep this place in mind.

Stopping in place - dry needles cracking beneath her paws - she smelled company before she saw her. She marched onward, letting her nose lead the way. It wasn't long until she caught sight of two unnatural colors (at least in a place so green): salt and pepper. Varinril stopped several wolf lengths away to the stranger's left, curious. She was not as animated as Varinril, clearly gnawing on...what was she eating? That wasn't meat, was it? The pale coated wolf put her nose to the ground and noisily sniffed, her eyes and ears attuned to the beast before her. She tentatively rose her right paw, letting it hang in suspension. This was her way of asking: may I come closer?

One ear rotates to the left as heavy crunching gets louder and louder. She’s torn flesh away from the apple and awkwardly chews against the weird taste. Her jaws smack exaggeratedly as she chews, making her mouth feel a little weird with the new sensation, but she clears the bite in time to see a pale wolf appear to one side. Flinching, and spinning her attention over, she fears it is Artaax that has approached and finally found her. Her lips peel back and she leans to the right, putting one paw on her prized treat before she realizes it’s a stranger—not that it makes a difference (at first).

Pale green eyes stare for a moment, lowering her head to hide her food, but she’s already been seen. The ask for invite doesn’t go unnoticed but it takes her several seconds before she’s willing to do anything.

Glancing around their surroundings, listening and sniffing for signs of another, she finally turns back and quietly chuffs her invitation. She stands quickly, scooping up the fruit, and moving a few feet to the right to open up the clearing before she settles back down. Placing it carefully between her feet, she watches the other carefully decide what she wants to do.

The display of the wolf's sickle teeth sent alarm through her, but Varinril stood her ground. The flash of ivories had not been overly belligerent, only cautious. Her unnamed company looks around, understandably checking for others, before taking her prize and moving away to chew on it without further interference. Naturally, Varinril investigates where the she-wolf had been, sniffing pretty much everywhere to uncover what she can...which wasn't a whole lot. Loner. A year old. Eating something that smelled savory and tart.

Varinril locks eyes on her prone frame, thoughtful. What was she doing wandering the wilds so young? Could it be trouble at home? That would make them kindred spirits, then. But the pale-furred Renatus was more concerned with what she had rather than what she was going through. Watching her noisily chew that savory treat, Varinril took two steps forward, nose twitching nonstop. A high-pitched whine left her, her body taut with indecision. She wanted to investigate but did not want to feel the scourge of Mallaidh's fangs.

She watches the stranger from atop her gaze, putting her mouth carefully on one side of the browning fruit and begins to gnaw away a piece. It offers a wet crack and breaks away into her mouth, chewing—the inside of her cheeks burn, as if they are turning inside out—but she doesn’t let the stranger know. Mallaidh watches as the other girl sniffs the ground, searching every inch of the spot she’d been laying in.
 
It’s not enough, of course, because by the end of the investigation, the stranger has refocused on her again and what she’s got between her paws. Her teeth pull back a second time in warning, claws digging into the fruit as she draws it closer in to her chest. Hesitation keeps the stranger at bay but it’s clear what she wants she steps closer and whines, nose twitching eagerly for what she has. Mallaidh barks once then snaps her teeth forward in warning (their distance keeps her from making contact, though it hadn’t been in her intention). She then chomps her teeth down around the last chunk of fruit and crushes it, swallowing it within a few bites as stray pieces fall to the ground.

Varinril was not able to do much aside from stand there and watch them gobble it up. Once the other was done, however, she speedily dashed forward, scooping a small piece into her mouth before hightailing it out of there. Getting in a fight over such a small morsel would be a waste of energy on both parties, but some individuals were like that. It could be said that being a rogue drove them to such inclinations, but Varinril could think of an elementary solution to loneliness...

Once safely out of the other's reach, Varinril savors her inadequate piece. There's a bite to whatever this is; tangy whereas meat never was. As it slides down her throat, she realizes she wants more.

"Hey," she calls, looking at the unnamed wolf's square hindquarters. "Tell me where you got that and I'll help you."

To her surprise, the wolf lunges forward and startled, she back pedals several steps into safety. Silver, peppery fur bristles up her mane, a young lion with her lioness mother behind her, and teeth bared should she attack. 

But the other only swoops to the ground and takes the pieces that had fallen from her mouth, stepping back to her safety to take in what’s left. She watches with curiosity, lips sheathing back over but her fur remains alert and ruffled. The strangers offers her help for whatever reason to know where she’d found the fruit but for what? Her eyes narrow, scrutinizing the motive. 

”I don’t need help,” she states flatly, eventually smoothing our her fur and licking her lips. The tart feeling coats her mouth and she wants for water but does not move to satisfy the need just yet.

An insipid refusal met her pointed ears. If only Varinril could lay her motives bare, to show there was not a malevolent bone in her body. But her companion seemed to have a healthy weariness about her. An instant "yes" would have made herself leery. A self-governing proclamation showed enough of the mystery. Only by a sliver.

She - whoever she is - doesn't need help. Varinril fell silent, letting the weight of that statement sink in. True, it is summer. As such, there is no shortage of prey. Even so, a lone wolf can only accomplish so much. And that's not taking into account any misfortune thrown her way.

"Okay. If you don't need help...can you at least help me?" She gestures to some leftover blobs of the fruit. She just wants an apple. C'mon.

The stranger doesn’t seem satisfied with her answer as she lingers, staring at her as if to consider what to do next. Brows burrow between her pale gaze, ears cupped forward and attentive despite the irritation she’s starting to feel. She hadn’t gotten to enjoy her treat, having to gobble it down faster than she’d have liked to prevent some weirdo from taking it out of her mouth.
 
To her surprise, she’s asked for help, and her ears slick back. One paw lifts off the ground and she opens her mouth to say something, but it takes a tad too long to actually answer. She’s not used to being asked for help, usually forcing it on someone else. Why does she want to resist her still? Mallaidh licks her lips and looks away, trying to decide if she should share her secret or not—not that it would be too hard to find the tree—but ultimately she gives in and points with her nose off in one direction where she’d found the fruit.

Restlessness pervades her as irritation finds a home in the other. It was a simple question, really - Varinril could not grasp withholding such information for one's benefit, as wolves lived primarily off of meat, not fruit. Unless there was more than fruit to be had...

Those thoughts come to halt though when the pepper-furred yearling complies. It was a general direction but it was more than enough for her. Offering a muttered "thanks," she departs for the prized tree, tail held in a tense "U" shape.

It does not take long to come upon it, as the scent itself gives its location away. What with how easy it was to determine, Varinril huffed. She had tried to be pleasant but she was left feeling rejected. As she scans for a suitable fruit - preferably one that didn't have any insects on or in it - she lets the negative thoughts slip from her like smoke. Can't please everybody.

As soon as she finds the Perfect™ apple, she places it between her paws and begins grating at the flesh. At least she got something to eat out of whatever that interaction was.

The other wolf doesn’t stay long after she’s given direction, offering quiet thanks that she knows for certain isn’t sincere in the slightest. Before long, the pale girl has turned and disappeared into the forest, losing sight of her after a while.
 
Mallaidh stands there, alone, watching the general direction as she half expects the other to pick up a fruit and come back. But why? She snorts, lifting her nose and searching for the return of the pale wolf but she’s met with nothing. A twist of her lips pushes her in that direction, nose twitching with exaggeration and doesn’t stop as a few steps turn into an even trot. She hadn’t wanted help before—doesn’t need it—but, maybe…
 
When she sees the other on the ground, a chosen fruit between her paws—oh, how the tables have tabled—and offers a chuff so not to surprise.
 
“Who are you?” she decides to ask, breaking the silence. She moves in a circle to keep her distance from the eating wolf, watching as she tears apart the apple. “Why did you think I need help?”

Flaying the flesh, flavor exploded on her tongue. Literally. Why was there so much water in this thing? Tasty water. Oh damn, she could suck on these all day. And the way the apple breaks so skillfully beneath her teeth is a thing of beauty, truly. Varinril artfully hews off another slice, testing it on her tongue. It felt almost buoyant in her mouth, sliding down her gullet in a fulfilling manner.

She had just exposed the core when Miss Sourpuss came trotting back into view. Varinril felt an electric protectiveness surge through her. She had to mentally tell herself to calm down. Sourpants did not seem intent on robbing her, but the way she started to circle was sending her mixed signals. The fur along her scruff rose in sharp peaks, ears, and eyes observant. If her questioning company ever slid out of view, her ears picked up the sound of her paws.

"Varinril." She decided against sharing her family name. That was a clusterfluck she did not want to deal with right now. "I think you need help because you are alone." She grows contemplative, her near-black eyes peering into Mallaidh's Amulet green ones. "We can accomplish more by sticking together." As for what they could work towards was entirely in the other's court. She didn't seem the criminal sort. Just lost.

She does not realize the mistake she made until her companion bristles and focuses solely on her. Ears droops apologetically as she comes to a standstill. She’d only meant not to startle and come into view but she’d gone too far and made it awkward. But still, the other gives her a name and answers her questions easily enough. 

Seeking help for herself has never been particularly easy. Even as a kid, she’d nearly starved to death until Eske came along and took her in. That was hard enough in itself. But her helping others? No question. Rarely does she turn someone in need down, despite how many times it’s come back to bite her in the ass.

“I’m Mallaidh,” she introduces, shifting her weight a little and lowering herself to the ground to try and ease some of the tension. “You’re alone too?”

It was disheartening to see the other become passive so quickly. What sort of life has she lived, Varinril wondered, to become cowed in the face of slight adversity? In this, Mallaidh reveals herself; not only by name but maybe by motive as well.

"Mallaidh," she parrots softly, easing away the aggression that had built up under her skin. The other has righted all previous errors. Varinril was more than willing to start afresh (even if she did feel kinda bad). "Pretty name." Deliberately, she lets "for a pretty girl" die in her throat. No point in voicing that thought; she thought all girls were pretty. No need to lead her on if she was at all receptive. Ahem.

"Yeah, I'm alone." She managed to keep her voice level despite her parched throat and racing thoughts. "But you seem a little lost." That examination was admitted without a hint of malice though she was unsure how this one would take it. All Varinril could do was speak naturally and clearly. That, at the very least, was something she was good at.

Lost? She snorts a little, eyes not trailing from the fruit between Varinril’s paws. No, she’s not lost. She turns a little and rolls over to her right to swipe at a nearby apple. Part of it doesn’t look too appealing but if she rolls it the other day, the firm part is exposed. “Is it lost if I don’t have anywhere to go?” she asks with a roll of her shoulder. It’s too late to go back to Drageda—surely she’s been gone long enough they’d consider her a deserter. Like Arrille. Another outsider where she shouldn’t have been in the first place.
 
Mallaidh wrinkles her nose and bites at the fruit, tearing it away, but she doesn’t eat the chunk so much as spitting it out. Her only goal is to destroy it, instead. “Where are you going?”

Mallaidh takes her words in a literal sense. Varinril could not find it in herself to be upset about it. She's just a moody teenager, still young in many ways. She will learn, even if the Renatus is not there to witness it. A knowing but kind smile slowly curves across her maw.

"Maybe."

As her dark counterpart tears into her own apple, so too does Varinril. She grinds it to mush and swallows, tail flicking idly behind her. At her next question, Varinril offers a 'shrug.'

"Everywhere. Nowhere." It was probably frustrating hearing that, but for the ermine coated wolf, it was the only one. "I only recently came here myself." So she had no idea where she was going or who she would meet. A most enticing prospect. Nothing else would please her adventurous heart.

Varinril smiles and Mallaidh takes another bite of the apple and spits it out, licking at the exposed part that seems to melt the tartness. She looks down at her apple as her cheeks burn hot beneath dark fur, swimming through one frantic thought after the other. Maybe. What does that even mean? She stifles a scoff midway, spitting out a third piece when she realizes she’d taken another bite.
 
“Me too,” she says, after a moment. She’s never been this far south. Even if she’d want to return to Drageda, she wouldn’t know where to begin. And moving on to something else? That’s the… obvious next step, right?

Ears twitch at the admission. So she's new around these parts too huh? That was bolstering. What better way to get familiarized to the land and each other than to travel together? Propping up her right arm, she leisurely eats the rest of the fruit. The tartness gives way to thirst. Maybe they could go get a drink together? Gotta pitch the idea first, genius. Hoo. Okay. Here goes nothing.

"Why don't we travel together?" Pawing the core away, she resettles her concentration back on Mallaidh. "I got your back, you have mine?" Mallaidh was not the first individual she's ever propositioned this to; Varinril did not like traveling alone. She could just join a pack, but...she wasn't about to kiss someone's ass just to have someone to travel with. Who knows. Maybe packs around here are different!

Varinril suggests they travel together and Mallaidh immediately looks up from her apple, staring across the way at the pale girl. Her ears twitch, lying flat for a second, before cupping forward to continue to listen to the rest. It takes a little effort to breathe, her stomach somehow lodged in her throat, turning her lips dry.
 
Not knowing where she’s going is one thing. She doesn’t have to depend on someone else on where she’s going; but at the same time, she has nowhere to go. No drive. Nothing to return to. In a way, she misses it. Drageda was always there waiting for her. Blixen, Artaax… Rose. Mallaidh glances away, taking a long breath and fighting the constriction of her throat. What happens when things get hard? You always run away, she hears Blixen say, but the sound of music muffles the hateful words. A pleasant sound of home offers encouragement.
 
The world is wide and your legs are long, pikku savua.
 
“Okay,” she blurts, looking up. The apple between her paws is forgotten, rolled away and discarded. “Where will we go?”

Hesitation nests in Mallaidh. Varinril looks at her openly but not judgingly. Overcriticalness is detrimental to one so young. If anything, she would much rather see her flourish. Into what is yet to be seen, but let it be known Varinril is eager to see the true Mallaidh. A confirmation leaves her pleasantly bewildered. It usually took a bit more to sign off on her idea. It was evident now Mallaidh was not too hung up on the idea of having a partner to traverse the wilds with.

"Great." As for where to go, Varinril grew silent for a few moments. "I saw a magnificent mountain range just beyond this forest. Maybe we could check that out." Varinril did not have her mountain legs but she was more than keen on the idea of getting them. Especially with Mallaidh beside her. She rose into a sit. "What do you think?"

The exchange is awkward, watching as Varinril accepts her words and doesn’t say anything for several seconds. Is this the right thing to do? Her jaw tightens and she shuffles her front feet, mimicking the same action and lifting her front end. Her eyes travel off in the distance as if she can see the mountains through the trees. She hasn’t spent a lot of time on mountains, and the cliffs she didn’t make a habit of climbing except through the cavern. “Okay,” she repeats after a moment, thumping her tail against the ground. Her mouth opens to say she wants to avoid the coast but it hadn’t been mentioned and without wanting to explain too much to someone whom is essentially a stranger, she clicks her teeth back together. “Can we… um, find some real food first?”

Mallaidh's acceptance heightens her spirits despite the cloud of anxiousness hanging over her. Varinril is patient yet also eager to see what this flower will bloom into. Rising to all fours, the paler of the two nodded. The fruit was great but it was no main course, that's for sure. Way too sugary to eat daily, even as a side dish.

She approached Mallaidh, careful so as to not give her the wrong idea. She shared a look with her, one that spoke of thankfulness. Then she zipped past her, free-spiritedly. She yapped excitedly. Tonight she wouldn't suffer hunger or loneliness. What more can one ask for?