Hideaway Strath stjärnbild

The night was no clearer this evening.

A storm had rolled over the mountains and to Skärm's surprise, he had woken with half of his body in a puddle. He had not intended to fall asleep in a riverbed — alas, he did not know this land well enough to avoid it this time.

As the rain pelted at him from overhead, the boy mourned. He knew the stars as endless, eternal things. Beloved. No matter where he went he knew they were there, even as the sky wept and hid them away. He missed looking upon them — he mourned that absence.

Rosenskärm did this, knowing it was only a matter of time before they were clear again. They would guide him to a better place. A dry place, he hoped with a small huff.

He went to climb across some roots raised like bare knuckles from the soil, then through a carpet of ferns and moss, to a sheltered space beneath a giant old tree, where he shook the rain and mud from his coat. It would do no good in the long run, but for a few seconds Rosenskärm felt a little better.

i don't know if he's in territory fully yet or not, left it kinda open <3

if anybody paid attention to her, it had become noticeable the bard was more...distance. head too full of fantasies and too eager to return back to tavina. such feverish trip anxiety had taken its toll on her sleep schedule. as such she was here, wandering the woods in the rain.

it was there she found a stranger.

handsome in that wild way. no tavina, though, she thought. then found herself embarrassed by the thought. quick to puff up at both herself and him. as if his mere existence was a hindrance to her.

you shouldn't be here, served as a warning to him. it was for the best that she had been the one to stumble across him.

Sometimes when he was alone (and he was alone quite a lot) Rosenskärm would imagine for himself the voices of the stars. He knew what they looked like from afar, of course, and some watchers he had learned from believed each light was of a different color - so why not a sound, too? Why not a voice? Others even claimed to hear them; stars, speaking! Singing, even!

Not once had he heard them himself, but Rosenskärm was still young. He was still learning. There was no hope of hearing anything when he was so distracted by his body's shivers, or the feeling of being soggy with rainwater; but 'lo, from the dark of the wood, a voice!

He was clustered as close to the tree's trunk as he could manage when he heard it, and turned, and saw — well, in the dark everyone looked the same to him. A wolf; but not just any wolf, he thought. This one was different. Smaller, softer, and arrayed by blacks and whites, the likes of which Rosenskärm found bizarre - but not in a bad way.

Oh, underbart! He erupted happily, studying her face. She was covered in black clouds, and he thought — constellations? There, built right in to her coat!

Ah, hah, I — I am sorry, he remarks a moment after, chattering teeth making things a little bit difficult. His accent is somehow thicker in the cold. I am little lost man, ja? The regn, ah, the natten... He sighs, looking around at the shadows and the dripping world around them both.

May I stay a little time, here? To wait for regn. Snäll? His tail sways behind him a few tentative beats, while Rosenskärm's face blooms in to a nervous, hopeful expression.

he spoke in a broken pattern, and her heart ached heavily. he clearly needed help and she remembered how she had very much been the same when fury had found her.

nala realized very starkly how much she was not like those around her.

if...if you stay here, it has to be because you join. i don't think they like visitors here. she told him nervously, daring to step over the mucky earth to be closer to him. as if he was a secret to keep hidden. but...there is a place near the borders to hide away and wait for the storm to pass. you must stay with me. if somebody finds us, i speak for you, okay?

ty for the kudos n-n !!

Rosenskärm was confused at first. Was this lovely lady telling him to leave? His expression began to leak its good cheer and became drab, his little triangle ears tilting back.

If he wanted to be safe and dry, it could not be here. Not unless he pledged himself to strangers — which to him was terrifying, in an intimate sense. Rosenskärm was desperately alone every night and yes, he pined for hearth and home often, but his lifestyle could not work if he rooted himself anywhere.

That said, the rain did not look like it would let up anytime soon. He could not yet read the clouds (he could not see the clouds, mind you) so Rosenskärm remained blind; it could be days, or even weeks before the worst of the storm ended.

Y-you would help Rosenskärm? Balancing now on the raised roots, he teeters a little bit against the slick surface of the bark. As he tips forward one foot slips and he resets it in place. Trevlig dam—

He hurries over the roots and slinks towards her, feeling heavy drops connect with the crown of his head. His tail cannot be stopped: it wags, flinging rain behind him with every swipe.

The Warchief watched from the shadows as a strange man entered her territory. 
She watched further as Nala of all people came to confront him. Fury smiled softly to see the dog puff herself up. 
It was cute. In the way a rabbit was. 


Finally, as the two seemed to be getting ready to leave, the Alpha prowled upon them both with a low growl. 

Her massive, towing height and unwavering aura alone was intimidating to most. How much scarier could she be to the stranger with all her scars on top of it all?

he was sweet and all at once she feared for him.

what if arashi found him? fury had been kind to her, but would she be kind to a strange male? what of the newer male?

nala realized for perhaps the umpteenth time that night how horribly out of place she was. this was a thought only solidified as none other than the warchief herself descended upon the scene. a low growl the war drums of her arrival.

she was frozen, eyes wide as she stared at the stranger.

From behind the small woman came another shape, barely a breath after she had passed a warning to Skarm; the shape got larger and larger until it dwarfed the spriggan and Rosenskarm was at once aghast. He stared a moment before dropping his gaze.

With that went everything else. He looked half-drowned by the storm already, and muddy, but plastered himself upon the roots beneath his feet like a lichen carpet. Stop, drop, and grovel. His tail-wag had ceased immediately, and the slap of it against the mud was the only noise he made.

Fury watched Nala, whose eyes were wide with fear. 
For herself, or for the stranger, she could not entirely place. 
Both, perhaps?

After the scuffle in the Sweep, Fury had been in a tad of a bitter mood. 

The small man's submission appeased the Warqueen though, and her thundersome growl ceased as she noted his groveling.

"You encroach on my lands, stranger. Rise, let me see who you are." Fury rumbled over the storm. Her voice commanding, authoritative. 
But not malicious. 
He looked like a pale coyote, almost.
Such was the way of a storm like this, she supposed.

Her fiery hues were an omnious ember in the darkness.

nala knew it might not have been her place. here, this scene, the great need to rise as a defender to the stranger.

what would the saints make of her then? defending some bone-drenched man upon their borders.

he got lost in the storm, she added on softly, eyes not daring to look into the face of the warchief. the warchief who had once saved her from being so terribly lost. i can escort him.

The large woman spoke; her voice was a mountain rising from the depths of the sea, her gaze the dawn at its peak, piercing in to the lowly rat that was Rosenskärm — or so it felt!

The little one with a storm for a coat, spoke up then. Explained with their puny voice; to Rosenskärm this was akin to watching a member of the fair-folk try and make peace with a yeti. It was possible, as everything was possible if you got right down to it, but unlikely, and one oft feared for the sake of the fey.

I—I, my name, Rosenskärm. The man meekly introduced himself, still groveling. Smeared now with mud along the belly and cheeks. He flashed a worried look to his would-be escort as if to beg, save me please!

Fury looked upon the pitiful sight with a sigh. 
She glanced to Nala and shook her head to the offer to escort the small man from the Strath.
That wouldn't be necessary. 

Softer, now, Fury would approach Rosenskarm.
Her voice was gentler, but she kept it raised enough that he could hopefully hear over the storm around them. 

"I won't hurt you, please, stand up." 

denied.

she felt a gentle sting and hushed, resorting to being a background figure now. however she remained tightly coiled in her posture. uncertain what was to come or what would be extended to rosenskärm.

her eyes settled kindly upon him. a silence assurance that she was here for him still.