Moonspear the light, the fight, the quiet.

By now, her time here was starting to not feel so terribly foreign. Thankfully she had brought with her a solid routine of patrol, hunt, and rest. So long as she could keep to that, she found herself better able to cope with whatever else set out against her usual--but it was a whole different beast here, she swiftly realized in getting to know the mountain itself and how it carried on among its establishment. The wolves on it were a whole separate matter yet too.. one she had probably only scratched the surface of so far, but she was still figuring a lot out in the meantime, so was in no hurry.

So in reflection of her modest standing among these height-dwellers, she had led a quiet existence where Dacio and Praimfaya were her favored and most frequented company. Even with the somberness she could find in all of them after they had failed the Fen, she needed that familiarity.. and wanted to make sure they were coping, too. But it was a fine line, and she knew it. She was needing to iron her own situation out before she could intend to wholly support her brother, who in turn sat at their commander's side.

While considering such, her wandering afternoon walk had been tempted by the path climbing up the mountainside, one that veered for the north-western face of the mountain past the treeline--further than this Roankru had chanced traveling so far. It soon led her towards a small, snow-covered valley. 

Opalia could feel the extra bite of the winds.. and how thin as it ruffled her furs. Still.. determined, she slicked back her ears and jogged lightly on to the most expansive view of the sea. She had seen it from up on Moonspear already but weather usually blocked the view, or she simply didn't go high enough to really see it as well as this. Once there, silent in the meadow besides a soft panting as she caught her breath, she lingered and contemplated all with sights aimed towards the distant coast.

it is curiosity that has her follow the scent that threads up the mountains. she does not remember it from before her sickness, and it leads up the mountain in a way she'd never thought to travel. the foothills where come to the best prey, their den, and she'd hardly had the opportunity to explore in the short time she'd been here. 

the air is thin, the bite of the winds fiercer and the cold like spurs in her side. halfway up, panting and frozen, she glances back down the trail longingly. it would be just as easy to descend; surely no one would know. but she would, and the girl is quickly losing her patience with herself, her weakened body.

and so she continues. by the time the other girl is visible, she's out of breath, shoulders sloped and tongue lolling. she straightens as she approaches the girl, realizing then that the reason the stranger might have come up all this way is for peace and quiet. she should go, really—but she's already within sight, and surely it would be wrong to simply turn back and leave. swallowing, isi steps near, chuffing a quiet hello but ready to stand down should the stranger in any way signal her desire to be alone, here. 

but then she notices the sea; the way the view is spread out in breathtaking beauty below. the meadow feels far removed from the rest of the wilds, suddenly, and she is motionless as hungry gaze sweeps the lands lain out below.

Staring ahead, hungry to memorize this horizon's view, her thoughts churned and whirred into what felt like all directions to the introspective yearling. Somewhere along the way of it (being within the last few weeks) she had noticed how even simply breathing felt different now. She innately knew it was largely thanks to the mountain, but having this realization struck a deeper symbolism closer to her heart than even that. Times were changing, and she could not tell which direction they might swing in this soon. She so badly wanted this to be a good turning point for them, the small assortment of Roankru, but she felt ever further from their goals.

Then again, maybe it was because she had not yet learned to look at it in the right way. It was easier to overlook this necessary mend, and skip right to wanting what had been only theirs again, and how it had almost been able to grow. She was too young to feel so rooted in the past, she determined, then went sighing it off and feeling motivated enough to shake the idea entirely soon.

When she was no longer alone, it was first a twitch of an ear that alerted her, and soon the rest of her attentions came to the forefront. She stood, and turned, swallowing back the wary rise to her furs that she felt want to rise up as well.. but she was able to maintain some semblance of a facade while she set her sights on the young, moon-white girl. Hei, she whuffed back, deciding to muster her friendliness to help chase away her worries and wonderings. Have you been up here before? she asked, noticing right away where her companion's sights were going. She thought that seemed familiar, having been right there not so long ago.

the greeting is familiar; she thinks at once of Praimfaya. "hei," she returns, softer. at her question, comes a shake of her head no. "it is beautiful," she admits, gaze tracing the view. and so big. she feels small upon the mountain, as small as she'd felt all those weeks wandering alone. she blinked; she did not want to think about it, not now. 

the girl is unfamiliar, pretty. "have you been there before? the ocean?" she questions, sharply curious. she'd been warned away once, by a peculiar, grey-furred woman during the shaking. "it's dangerous, girl. not what it was. the sea will swallow you and clean your bones if you go now." it had been enough to deter her at the time, but from here - how could it be dangerous.

To hear their shared greeting returned brings a knowing nod out of the pale Roankru. Her suspicions were likely spot on then; according to what she knew from Dacio, this should be Dragomir's sister--Aure's daughter. A good long look at her was confirmation enough for her.. and she liked to think she recognized her in the subtleties of her features, beside the youth and the hardships.

Despite the hours and all the miles apart, over all the differing approaches and outcomes, a very distinct part of young Opalia had fleetingly imprinted on this girl's mother--a friend, a mentor--when the growing gona had been so determined just to achieve her standing, and be someone her pack was proud of. After the loss of her own mom after the rift from her sister, then her father's demanding duties for them all felt cut short abruptly by everything that had driven Drageda apart from inside out. Brief, but it was hard for her not to remember it then with a weird tightness in her throat. With her sights afforded with the sea, and the silvered girl alike, how could she not.

She took a deep breath and had to be careful about her homesickness. Opalia nodded. I was born there.. north. Dragoncrest Cliffs. she swung her nose gently that way. But I haven't been near the coast at all in a long time. Have you been before? she simply had to ask and decided it impersonal enough to help her get to know her somehow.

she was born there, the woman claimed, and named a place that sounded almost familiar. one of her father's stories, perhaps—she notes with a chill of fear, suddenly, that it's growing harder to remember the exact sound of his voice, the shade of his eyes. 

in an attempt to circumvent the sharp and sudden dread, she asks, "what was it like, living there?" her question is answered with a shake of her muzzle. "I met a woman, during the quakes—she said it was dangerous." she offers as an explanation. she'd never really thought about it again; any potential wanderlust that might once have bloomed in her is stomped dead.

What was it like? Opalia knew it best as a feeling deep in the marrow of her bones. She needed a second to articulate it easiest, assuming the pale girl knew little. It always smelled like sea.. and could usually hear the waves. We had an old redwood forest too, so it came together like that, she said, kind of quiet as she detailed the memories that felt so far away. There was a wide view..a big horizon, since we were up on the cliffs, which is kind of like now. This feels almost familiar like that, but it was way more sky and water from there of course, she went on to say, knowing in her heart that she could keep going down to the finer details if she really tried.

As for the ominous words, Opalia was not surprised. She breathed a slow sigh to that much. I heard it was dangerous.. after the earthquakes, and all, she agreed, wondering how the wolf she met was and why she offered such a warning. As far as Opalia knew, few still lived on the coastline. But we had gone inland by then. I can't say for myself. I've been well south of here in the lowlands until now.. she said. Maybe come spring, I'd like to visit again just to see it for sure. And of course, by then, maybe enough time had passed; things seemed to be looking up. By spring, she might be more secure in the thought.

If you may be interested in coming along, just to see it for yourself, you're more than welcome to come too, the yearling offered, trying to keep her encouragement subtle enough--but the suggestion was certainly out there.