Seaside Moors I'm scared of the long nights and the darkness

Ever since that stormy day when the Rusalkans fled their home and regrouped on the plateau, Nieve felt like a part of herself was missing. She pined for the sound of waves crashing on the shore, the briny sea air, the cries of gulls. The sun gilding the horizon. Streams of mist thrown skyward by the cresting of distant whales. The longer they remained on the plateau, the more unlike herself she felt, culminating in a wolf on the fringes, unsure if she could even fit in with her pack anymore.

And then they announced a return to the sea, and it was like all of Nieve's verve and energy returned to her. The scout tore ahead of the others to explore their new location. At face value, it wasn't much. There was no familiar sand underfoot, no cool surf splashing over her paws, and no dim grotto to retire to when the sun was hottest. Snow still dotted the hilly landscape, concentrated beneath groves of trees and large stands of rocks. In fact, it was similar to the plateau, just with fewer trees and more hills. But just over the next rise she could see the twinkling bay curving off to the east, while dead ahead, spindly trees stood out against the white of the sand. Just beyond, the ocean itself.

Seaside Moors could've been a stretch of barren rock for all Nieve cared. Its proximity to the sea was all she needed to feel energized and whole. She raced across the moors, up and over hills, leaping spryly over budding shrubs, and allowed a crooning laugh to spill from her lips for the first time in ages.

Unlike Nieve Norah had never felt great attachment and longing for certain locations in this world. For her any area was used for practical purposes only - it had to provide her with food and shelter, when she needed such, maybe entertainment, if such was possible. Once a place had outlived it's usefulness the nomad left it without a second glance back. Nor did she reminisce about it later.

Places did not define, who she was, but people were a different matter entirely. They were source of knowledge and entertainment, they were targets of her sharp wit and means of self-discovery. She was a natural-born chameleon, who either adapted to the environment she was at the present moment or who chose to wear different guises, when communicating with others. 

She did not have many friends, even smaller was the circle of people that she truly cherished, but she did miss one or another person, who had given her a valuable lesson in life or had amused her greatly. Fools were great, but wise people, who had acted foolishly, were her favourites. And just the same way Nieve missed the shores and the hum of the waves, Norah - when on her own - often recounted people with whom her paths had crossed. 

Here in the moors cheerful laughter caught Norah's attention. She raised to her feet and found the source in a form of a young girl passing by. Curious the she-wolf decided to follow the other and maybe find out, what the joke was.

Ignore him for now! but he is on his way

As they worked on claiming the moors in the name of Rusalka, Rosencrantz was as dutiful as ever. Tireless he wandered the borders and lands, searching for anyone or anything that might have crossed the borders in the making, and came across one scent... one that didn't belong to any Rusalkans, but to another. It was familiar yet strange. 

With quickened paws he thundered his way across the flatlands, slithering over rocks and through the brush as he followed the scent. Whoever it was that ventured into the lands, they'd meet him soon enough.

At first, Nieve didn't notice the rock-coloured she-wolf lounging on the moor. She might not have remarked Norah at all if not for the prickling of her guard hairs, which never failed to rise when she felt eyes upon her back. Nieve gradually slowed to a moderate lope and then wheeled around, setting deep blue eyes on the stranger who followed her.

Never one to leap to conclusions, Nieve fixed Norah first with a questioning gaze, but was on high alert for any sign of hostility. The moors were freshly marked, although she could excuse a wolf for being a little disbelieving of a brand new, recent claim. Nevertheless, she canted her muzzle upward and said, in as firm a voice as she could manage, you shouldn't be here. These are claimed lands.

Nieve wasn't aggressive enough to launch an attack, and it was in her nature to give others the benefit of the doubt... but even she didn't like seeing someone who definitely wasn't part of Rusalka gallivanting around in their new territory like this.

The news that the land was claimed came as unpleasant surprise - Norah's brow furrowed, while she tried to process at which point she had missed the obvious scent marks left by a group to which the young girl belonged. Her joy of meeting someone new to either befriend or study was quickly overshadowed by the instinctive fear of having others arrive now and she was not sure, if she was fast enough to outrun a gang of murderous beasts.

So, if it was a good time to leave, it was now. No matter, how much Norah regretted of never finding out, what kind of gem this person was. She drew great pleasure from her hobby, but she loved being alive even more. "-ntschuldigung..." she murmured, offered a quick apologetic glance and a wag of tail, then she turned on her heel and ran off as fast as she could. So that by the time any reinforcements arrived she would have a good head-start (at least) or be well far off already. 

I did not know that Rusalka had moved and claimed the lands prior this thread. Therefore I am sorry for being brief. It is not in Norah's nature to trespass.

He came thundering over the horizon, only making to Nieve's side in the knick of time for the stranger to run off without encountering their guardian. Already riled up, fur bristled, he stepped around Neive protectively, searching for the figure, ebony nose picking out their scent in the and on the ground. Fangs exposed as his remaining lips peeled back viciously, Where is she? he demanded through growls, trying to find out whether the path he could pick out was where she had gone to, or where she had come from.

Nieve's minimal experience with trespassers had taught her that they often did one of two things: tried to make excuses for themselves, or became aggressive. Norah did neither. The loner muttered something unintelligible and then fled, leaving Nieve standing puzzled in the middle of the moors. She watched the grey wolf's disappearing back until Rosencrantz arrived, huffing furiously, and asked where she was.
She went that way, said Nieve, jabbing her snout in the direction Norah had gone. I don't think she meant to trespass. She ran as soon as I told her she shouldn't be here. But if Rosencrantz wanted to chase Norah down to ensure she was well and truly gone, she wouldn't stop him from doing so. She, on the other hand, was more interested in continuing her running survey of their new terrain.

I know you're closing off Nieve threads! I made Rose leave in this thread but I can edit it if you want him around a wee bit longer just shoot me a PM! Feel free to archive if you want to close it out!

Even with his guard up and angered by the strange woman's scent on the borders, Rosencrantz still took some time to look the young lady over to make sure she was unharmed (thankfully she was). As soon as he confirmed her health, he stared off in the distance that Nieve pointed out the stranger had gone off too and with a huff decided to follow her a little way to make sure her scent was indeed leaving Rusalka and not circling around...

Works for me!

Rosencrantz took his leave, presumably to follow after Norah and ensure her departure from their land. Nieve, on the other hand, turned back to the moors and resumed her exploration, albeit at a slower trot rather than her former gallop.