Nova Peak death at the gates again / howling my name

haruspex sent him ahead to scout; with a quiet demanding hanging unspoken from betwixt their lips: to judge the pliability —


the executioner was all too happy to venture forth into the foreign lands. autumn drapes heavy across the lands; overcast skies greet him ...having offered him no moonlight to guide him into the morning. only the gradual lighten of drab grey as the sun rose. the temperature isn't cold but it isn't warm either; lurking somewhere in the goldilocks zone.

he chooses the stepp, ridged peak with sloping tails to the north and south, peppered with evergreens as his temporary place of rest. it offers with it the scent of prey recently passed through and crisp springs to drink from ...of which he laps at currently from the sphinx-like position he's taken.

there is an ache in his paws from the travel but carnifex knows better than to complain despite that he is in no company but his own.

under the dense pewter clouds she climbed towards the peak, following the small spring which trickled from an upper source. she knew from her travels to always stay near the water, as it was an almost certain way to find the prey which would come to quench its thirst. autumn came not only with the relief of cooler temperatures, but also with an urgency. she would need to find a place to settle before the snows came.

the water brought her not to prey, but to another canine. hollis froze, caught off guard by the shadowy man who lapped from the spring. after a pause, she offered him a soft chuff, tail lowered but ears erect.

solitude does not last long; tell-tale in the steady and purposeful footfalls of another canine approaching. a flick of his left ear is given, the first to pick up the low chuff offered at his back. for a moment, hope blossoms within the confines of his chest that haruspex decided to join him. it would certainly save him time of tracking them, having to hope that they would remain where he left them —

but no. the sound of the voice does not ring even remotely familiar to the coywolf.

the executioner and the diviner were two halves of the same whole ( at least, this is the way carnifex has always chosen see it, true or not ).

carnifex does not turn to face the stranger immediately, arrogantly enjoying his cool drink; when it appears that the stranger isn't going away does he finally turn to face her.

she bears a chocolate pelage that covers her slim, sylph-like body with eyes the color of rose petals at their peak. for a wild moment, carnifex wonders if she is a half-sibling; a daughter of the witchdoctor, arturo. it would not surprise him but he does not gleam any distinctly coy features and abruptly decides that it doesn't matter anyway.

yes? the word wrangles itself betwixt his lips; settling into the air between them where it entrench itself; perhaps more barbed than it had a right to be.

silence followed her greeting, silence broken only by the bubbling of the spring and the lapping of his tongue upon the water. she wondered if he had not heard her, but she knew better: a wolf's ears were sharp, and from where he lay he could have picked up sounds much softer than the one she had made. he was ignoring her, or at the very least, taking his time. 

at last the slender beast looked toward her and replied. the moment he faced her, she felt her breath catch in her throat. it was as if she were peering not at the face of a living canine, but at the skull of a dead one. his markings were so reminiscent of death that she wondered if he were not some hallucination brought on by her weeks of solitude and poor nutrition..

she swallowed thickly and approached him, trying to bring her attention back to the present moment. the creature was smaller than she, bearing a distinct resemblance to her brethren the coyote. he undoubtedly had coyote blood coursing through his veins. in that case, he was probably physically weaker than she ; although if violence were to ensue, she would lose a fight against a rodent, such was her own present state of weakness.

in any case, he was living and breathing; had he not just been drinking water, an act performed only by living creatures? she could put her worries of insanity to rest, so to speak.

My name is Hollis, she spoke, offering a small smile and lowering her ears. How are you today?