Qeya River never knowing when the shake's steady

@Queenie

it had been wardruna and imrathil's plan to cross the river days prior - but like most plans schemed by mortal minds, they quickly found their designs waylaid by the throaty vigor of the river. it was too deep in many places to cross, and the presence of packs nearby troubled their progress. even going a bit upstream had proved futile, for around the bend the river had swelled into a full-throated cry of snarling mud and rushwater; to cross it there would be unrepentant demise, plain and simple.

imrathil had gone for a walk, finding that some movement might clear his mind and his frustrations. he took it upon himself to double back where they had originally first come across the river - perhaps if they doubled back up north, they could find another inlet free of deadly rivers and packs in which to continue their journey westward.

Queenie wasn't entirely sure what to make of being back in the Wilds, but she knew that she'd come for a reason. Before leaving, she'd promised a home and safety for her offspring, but instead she'd abandoned them and left them motherless with no other option but to suckle at the breast of a stranger. A part of Queenie was disgusted with herself for having left, but they were of no use to her back then. It was now that her presence really mattered, and she planned carry through.

The Taiga was blanketed in ice and snow. There were a few streams that ran fervently enough to keep themselves thawed, but they seemed far between. It had been a few days since she'd reentered the Wilds, so Queenie figured that she owed it to herself to have a rest. She carried herself to the river's bank and settled down onto her side, eyes darting around to take in the familiar scenery.

after some precursory examination, imrathil decided there wasn't much here for him. some thick brakes of forest shrub, some wilted ferns. a few broken bands of tall reeds that flanked the hungry rise of the river.

he was not so foolhardy to test his luck against the current, but as he turned around in resignation he caught the prone form of a rising flank. curious -- he had not noticed her before -- perhaps she had settled there well after he had passed by.

he wanted to go up to her, to engage in friendly talk, or have an easy conversation.. but as he hung there on the balance of total solitude and wilderness, he felt his isolation win and suddenly realized he had spoken to no soul save wardruna in months. wrestling with this revelation the male cleared his throat, but hung a distance away with a watchfulness about him.

Queenie could tell that she was being watched. Her hackles raised instinctively as her eyes darted to and fro, but lowered once she spotted the lone ink blot in the distance. There weren't any packs nearby that she knew of, so it was assumed that they were both loners; if this stranger was a pack wolf, then he must have been a scout to have travelled so far. In either case, the playing field was even.

After rising to a full stand, Queenie licked her chops and gave a neutral bark as she began to make her slow approach.

even from this distance imrathil could see his presence elicited a reaction from her. a blade of hackles rose along her back, their tipped hairs glinting in the pale autumn sun. his ears folded back instinctively in response: i am not a threat.

imrathil was besotted by her strange pelt. while his memory was as patchwork as her pied fur, he was certain he has never seen her like before. as she rose to face him he leaned back on his hocks, for a moment worried she has risen to attack. instead a neutral bark sounded the distance between them: imrathil found his own tail begin to stir, and he tentatively leaned into an anxious playbow.

it seemed she missed him - after a few seconds she was gone. imrathil felt discontent settle around him.. had he imagined her?