Greatwater Lake Synkverv

Today, she feels tired. She has journeyed so far, yet has nothing to show for it. She sighs as she dips her sore feet in the lake. She ought to hunt. She knows she’s lost weight. Perhaps she should’ve brought a companion with her, though Berskir had not realized the search for @Eventyr and the others would take her this far or this long.

For the moment, she decides to rest. Withdrawing from the shallows, she retreats to a spot on the bank and sprawls. Although her body stays still, her mind wanders as she mulls her next steps.

Closest one is Rodyn, so you get my soot boy. Heh Let's see how deep her prejudices run :D also vague, because T.K.s wound thread isn't done yet. 

With silent, careful steps Rodyn departed from Moonglow. He was worried after his dog friend T.K. He found his steps leading him towards the large lake, that he had glimpsed in his travels. Some drink and food would not go amiss. He tilted his ears forward and put his nose to the ground, a rabbit would be good. He'd prefer venison, bit it had been too long since he had a group or even one more large enough to hunt it.

However, in his forays a new scent teased his nostrils and he caught sight of a white wolf laying near. He moved closer, was it Sialuk or Moonwoman, as he neared he realized it was neither and he stopped his movements, and chuffed quietly.

It doesn’t exactly surprise her when another wolf appears at what must be a popular watering hole. She pushes onto all fours and turns in one fluid movement, eyeing the lanky, svart stranger with yellow eyes. Her own eyes narrow a little, though she does not want to thwart a chance to ask after her sister.

Without returning the male’s greeting, Berserkir asks pointedly, Eventyr? Do you know?

Rodyn raised a wolfish brow at her narrowed eyes. The fur on his nape tingles a little, it is clear she doesn't care too much for strangers. He tilts his head, eyes bouncing all around her, keeping check. He doesn't want to be sprung upon by her or any minions she may have in the shadows. Normally, he's a fairly friendly wolf, but the narrowing of her eyes, and her brusque question, it turned his fur wrong.

I don't know anyone by that name. Sorry, stranger. Did you lose someone you were traveling with? 

He thought about offering to help her look, but for some reason he stayed his tongue, determining that he would wait to see what she said to that and go from there.

The “no” does not surprise her, though her reaction does. She sags visibly. She’s at the end of her rope. Will she ever find Eventyr or the others? She misses home. Elfenbenravn needs her, especially as they’re facing another war with Ibenholtravn. But the clan also needs her sister and the others who left. Her jaw clenches.

She is sister, Berserkir says in reply to the man’s question, glancing away across the lake as the familiar disappointment washes over her.

She doesn’t mention the rivalry or her sister’s cowardice in fleeing to the stranger. But Berserkir certainly thinks about it. Perhaps it’s best if she throws in the towel and returns home empty-handed. The failure will weigh on her, as will the shame, but both she and the clan will eventually move on from it…

Catching herself lost in her thoughts, she raises her head suddenly and eyes the stranger again. He looks a lot like a classic Svartravn, though she doubts there’s any connection. He’s just unfortunate, like all dark wolves.

Rodyn saw her body sag and before he could stop himself he was ghosting forward to catch her if she fell, but he quickly stopped himself. Still unsure exactly what she needed, what she wanted and if she was a danger to him. He could hold his own sure, but the simple fact was he needed to learn to not be so trusting.

His ears laid to his skull as he thought of his own sister, and he frowned. I'm sorry you can't find her. It's always hard when your family goes somewhere without you. But she's lucky her sister's trying to find her, and your a nice sister for trying.

He didn't know the whole issue, and he was probably way off base, but he knew how it felt to be separated from those you cared for. It was hard, all more so when it was done on purpose with violence.

Blowing out a breath, and without thinking on it. I'm Rodyn Ardeth. Do you need help searching for your sister

When he moves toward her, she slinks back a few steps. She stops, his offer catching her by surprise. Why should a perfect stranger want to help her? They haven’t even exchanged names. Well, he gives one in the very next breath, but her tongue remains glued to the roof of her mouth.

She tries to work it loose, lilac eyes squinted. Berserkir doesn’t trust the offer to help. It makes no sense to her. Still, she tries to make sense of it, her mind whirring. She realizes, quite abruptly, that the wolves around here don’t seem to pay any attention whatsoever to pelts. It makes no difference here if you wear black or white, or something in between.

Why? is what she finally says. Why you want help me?

Rodyn moved further backward, noticing the she wolf in front of him stepping back. He hadn't meant to scare her, merely catch her if she fell. She was clearly tired, had probably been running for days. Probably didn't eat, though she didn't look like she was starving.

She had stranger colored eyes, they reminded Rodyn of the tree flowers that he saw every now and again. She was pristine in her coloring, except for one marred ear, but it gave her character. Large, built for running or hunting or maybe war, her accent was jarring, and thick. He had to listen close to understand. 

Because it's the nice thing to do? He squinted at her. Because I know what it's like to miss a sibling.

He seems baffled by her own bafflement. His reply makes sense, except for the part where he still doesn’t know her name or the first thing about her. He doesn’t know she is a Kvitravn. Even if she tells him, he won’t know the significance. Berserkir grapples with this realization.

She looks at the water again, notices a mallard paddling across the lake with a slew of ducklings forming a neat row behind her. Berserkir smiles at the fluffy little ducklings, always endeared by children, even if they’re not her own species.

Another realization strikes, this one a bullet to the gut. Here, her “dark mark” means nothing. Here, it’s just a peculiar marking. Here, it is not a life sentence against motherhood. Her eyes mist as she continues staring at the family of ducks.

Rodyn didn't need to know that much. She was in need, he was in a position to help, and worse came to worse. He could fight back if needed. 

Rodyn followed her gaze. cute aren't they. Babies of any kind are always cute. He shifted and swung his tail once or twice.



He tilted his head at her silence. You alright?

Rodyn speaks, breaking into her thoughts. It’s like he’s reading them. Her lilac eyes cut to him sharply, squinting again. She decides to listen to her instincts. They’ve nearly never steered her wrong. He gives her all sorts of misgivings and she no longer wants to continue this conversation.

Greit, she replies quietly, opting not to comment about the ducklings. Do not need help, she adds as Berserkir swivels on a heel and begins loping around the lakeshore.

She will hunt, she thinks, and then find somewhere quiet to eat and get some rest. And, of course, to think.

Rodyn watched her lope away and shakes his head. Rude his only thought. He turns the opposite way. He had merely been reading her body language, and he thought babies were cute any kind. Who didn't?

He turned the opposite way. Hoping he never met her again.