Fox's Glade all i've got is instinct

@Taktuq or @Inkeri

she crossed the meadow to the glade, hungry and watchful for life.
her pace had changed; in fact her whole body had become bloated in a way that terrified her. sanja knew on some level what had caused her physical change - that this was a manifestation of her poor decisions - but she couldn't face it. she was in denial.
illness, that was all. illness that would pass.
the scent of fox, thick enough it could drown her by scent alone, prevailed among the trees.
turning sharply to the shadows, sanja dry-heaves in to them.

Inkeri veered towards a glad. Fish maybe. She was better at fishing. Though she could catch a furry creature.

Eyes always watchful, shoulders slumped. Where was Anja, Lucius. No where, abandoned her, left her for dead.

Another movement caight her gaze, a svart skinned she wolf. Inkeri momentsrily thought about running the other way, but curiosity and hunger spurned her onward. She chuffed.

Then backpedaled as the other got sick in the bushes. ::Are you okay? her home language rolling off her tongue to dance down.

a voice crested the darkness.
it was close enough to her own language for sanja to startle with recognition, but there was something about the way the stranger spoke that wasn't right. she could assume understanding to some words; perhaps that would be enough.
after she finishes coughing up bile, then nothing, sanja turns awkwardly to look for the stranger. she feels immediately bothered that they were found here, and watched, in their current state.
she looks the stranger over a minute more but says nothing. better to be on her guard.

Inkeri backed further up. Forcing herself smaller. Pretty eyes moving from one space to the next. Perhaps, this one cant speak her home tongue. It made her sad for a moment. More of her identity stripped.

I'm Inkeri. Inkeri.

Her voice swirled around them in the silence. Timid and shy. Yet, taking up space. Cutting the air. A tightening began in her chest. Her eyes quickly downcast. A small wince.

She backed further away.

The woman spoke again. This time when sanja heard the inflection she knew it was a name that was spoken, although in her own language the sounds made little sense as a name - in the pot wasn't exactly a common moniker - and for a moment Sanja balked.

While they withdrew and gave Sanja more space, the darker of the pair let out a small laugh, breathy, as if it was alive of its own accord and had surprised Sanja for existing.

She tried to cover the sound by chuffing softly.

Sanja. — a motion to herself, ég er Sanja.

Inkeri wasnt sure what to do. There was a clear language barrier, but thr other didn't know her language or common she didn't think and she wasn't certain what to do.

The small trill of noise that fell from the other wolfess lips made Inkeri draw up in surprise. Though she realized the other was probably as nervous as she was.

Inkeri tried out the name. Sanja. Though, it was hard and it twisted her tongue a bit, at least she had a name for sick in grass wolfess.

Inkeri looked around and spoke one word twice, Sulten, sulten

The woman's head tilts one way then the other, trying to get her ears aligned just right, as if that would help. Inkeri was looking around when she parroted one word again and again, but it was not one that translated for Sanja.

Perhaps this other woman was lost. Sanja was not so eager to help others on the off-chance they were threats; so far, she'd encountered her fair share of those. However - due to a change in her biochemistry one might argue - she saw this fellow wolf in a more forgiving light.

Sanja boofs an inviting note and then, as she turns, begins the slow but steady treck through the trees. She pauses often enough to check that Inkeri is following... Not realizing that the woman's issue was something else.

Inkeri was surprised at this woman's unusual nature. At her head moving to and fro, and her ears twisting this way and that. She wondered briefly if she was touched. That would be about her luck. She would find a woman that wasn't right.

Inkeri followed behind her. A little unsure what this wolf was doing or what she wanted, but she would help her out for now. Perhaps she would grab something and try and show her what she had been talking about, because clearly something was lost in translation.

Finally, a small rabbit. Probably too young to know any better lifted it's down head. And Inkeri pounced upon it. She moved nearer the wolf Sanja and dropped it at her feet, and pushed it with her nose on one of the pauses.

Her mind was on the paths that wound through the glade.

All she could smell was fox musk. Aware, and wary, of the stranger at her back; but leading the way as best she could.

When there came a sudden rush of movement behind her, Sanja tensed and spun. She nearly lost her balance, having not moved in such a way since her pregnancy began - and she looked to the pale wolf with an intense fear.

But it was short-lasting. The other woman had plucked a tiny rabbit from the brush, as if she were a magician reaching gingerly in to their hat. Sanja blinked a few seconds and stared, and as she realized she was over-reacting, she became sheepish.

Ink didn't miss the woman's clear apprehension of her movements. She chuffed quieter, and nudged the food again. Then with gentle paw steps she backed up again, out of her space. She knew what it was like to always be on guard. To always be afraid someone's paw would end upon you with anger and hurt. Or Teeth that bit. Angry words that spit.

Inkeri was well aware. And it hurt her heart a little to know that someone else had gone through something whether as constant as she and Anja or simply a little bit. But that made it no less horrifying.

She tried the common tongue again. Eat. Followed by her own language. Spise

They nudged the young hare's body and then drew back, giving Sanja space to inspect it. It was obviously not poisoned, given that it was fresh. It was not a scripted act either; the thing had looked and smelled alive in the split-second Sanja had noticed it.

Why would this wolf give it up? It was their kill, they had the right to eat it. Was it an offering? Sanja investigated it with a probe of her nose and a few sniffs. She gave a small chuff to Inkeri and shook her head; no, she would not eat it. It was not her's.

She licks her lips in a display of submission, and backs up also. The rabbit sits between them, untouched. Sanja's tail gives a small flick, as she slowly finds the situation amusing. This wolf is clearly not a threat, and likely not lost either.

Inkeri unsure. Untried. Watches as the other wolf studies the hare between them. She inspects it closely, but doesn't eat. Inkeri wants to scream. She was trying to share something. To show, well she wasn't certain what. Thank fullness? That the other didn't rip her hide from her back and feed it to her.

Clearly they are at an impasse. She grasps the hare and swings it up over a shoulder. The blood dripping down her white fur to mix in with the white and black of her mismatched coat. She motions with her head to the other.

As if saying, lead the way. I will follow you for a time. Though how long that would be, even Inkeri couldn't answer.

Sanja watches as the stranger lifts the hare to their shoulder. It is odd; why not just carry it with teeth? Perhaps they still do not trust that Sanja is a friend. Certainly the shadow feels the same way about Inkeri; they are both unsure, and so it is justifiable to leave their teeth ready, just in case.

There is no use overthinking this. Sanja cannot fault a wanderer for being cautious - she has learned to be careful herself. She chuffs, then turns.

In time the glade winds towards the lowland hills, spreading in to meadow and then to forest, and it is through one forest to another that Sanja leads them.

She stops when she sights the tall stones set in the earth, and peers to Inkeri, wondering what she'll make of the obelisks along the path. The two look like they are on a pilgrimmage — to offer up the rabbit to ancient gods that have lost their names.

Inkeri has learned through harsh lessons, that she cannot trust as easily as she may like. Though she still often does. She does remember sometimes to be cautious and keep claws and teeth at the ready. More so when she cannot properly speak with her travel partner. She doesn't know her intentions.

Inkeri follows, the silence growing, but it is not deafening. No, it has become a comfortable silence. To move together, and see the lands for what it is. It is certainly beautiful here. Though nothing will ever be as beautiful as home, these wilds come close.

Inkeri stared in awe at the obelisk and then with precision, she pulled the rabbit from her shoulder and made a split second decision. She split the rabbit in two, with a loud crack. And with careful jaws she lay one at each pillar. For Svart and Kvit. She had decided just then, that as two pelts herself. She would at least honor both. Perhaps not follow, but honor.

She felt strangely guilty for wasting meat as such, but it seemed fitting to do what she had just done. Though she could not explain it.

Sanja did not approach the stones at first. She waited and watched as Inkeri focused upon them, took the rabbit from her shoulders, and split it in to manageable pieces.

The smell of blood perfumed the air.

The woman was painted red.

She took some of the pieces to one stone, the rest to the other, and placed them carefully as if the stones were an altar. Perhaps they were; Sanja had been nervous about them. She hadn't studied them in great depth.

The woman was not religious. She wasn't even sure if she was spiritual; but she appreciated the sight of the offerings anyway. There was something viceral about witnessing someone act on impulse in such a way.

She chuffed to the other woman and when she'd garnered Inkeri's full attention, wagged her tail as a swaying pendulum.

Inkeri, the woman murmured,
Inkeri... heim? Sanja motioned after a moment to the rolling hills and the seer stones; was this her home? Heim hér?

Inkeri didn't often give into her instincts about spirituality and religion. Normally that was Anjas task. However, Anja was not here. And it felt fitting in a way to honor her sister in this way. Her sister. A pain blossomed in her chest. Where was Anja?

It took a moment to understand what the other meant, but her word was close enough to Hjem, that she was able to garner that it meant home. Was this her home?

She shook her head, sadly. No, heim. The other word was hard to change, she wanted to say Hjem, but she was able to get the word out.

Inkeri looked around again. She wouldn't mind living here. It was certainly beautiful. Could she make such a decision without Anja. Well if Anja didn't like it, she could leave, yes?

Ditt Hjem? She motioned all around and then pointed back to Sanja. Was this her home?

The woman said no. The sound wasn't as meaningless to Sanja this time, as they also shook their head, and she could tell by their body language what they meant.

The question was turned upon her next.

Sanja opened her mouth to say no, but, she faltered. After a few seconds of thought she nods her head. Heim, ja. Her voice was almost a whisper as this dawned upon her.

The other woman had not been a threat. She proved to be quick-witted enough to snatch that rabbit, and respectful not to turn those teeth upon Sanja with her back turned.

Inkeri... heim. The questioning tone of Sanja's voice joined with the hopeful look upon her face; she had been alone for a while now, bouncing between men, roaming far to find a safe place. It was safe here — and Inkeri could stay, if she wanted.

There was enough space for the two of them. It would be nice to see another friendly face, from time to time.

Inkeri smiled, they were making progress. She shuffled her paws. Anxious. Unsure. This was new. She was not a talkative she wolf. But she had talked more in the last few weeks than ever before.

Inkeri realized what she was asking and though a part of her almost said no. That Anja was not here. A small part of her, the small piece that had begun to unfurl with her stay in the Teekon. It said yes. She could bring Anja here, when they found her. Sanja was nice to give her a home, she would do the same for Anja. She was certain, or so she hoped.

Inkeri nodded her head. And thought of how to word, that she would stay. Inkeri, nytt Hjem.

I will stay.Stay She whispered gently and wagged her tail.

Fade here?

After a pause during which Sanja felt a growing tension, as she feared being rejected by this woman - and being cast aside to loneliness once more - she was surprised by the nod of her head.

Sanja's tail swayed with more vigor. She danced lightly in place, lifting paws and stepping lightly, wanting very much to draw close to Inkeri and inspect the scents of her coat, or touch the drying blood upon her shoulder.

Gott! Gott. Yes, good.

Instead she nodded in mimicry of the woman, and turned towards the nearest stone to glance at the rabbit parts — unsure of what to say now, or to do.

But she was glad, and felt warm all over. Some small piece of her desperation had alleviated with that answer.

Velcommen! She exhaled, looking to Inkeri's marked face with a new warmth.

Yes and thank you

Inkeri smiled at the display. She liked this female Sanja. She made her feel safe. Much like Anja and Lucius did and do. Inkeri would have taken the touches, though it may have startled her at first.

Thank you. She waved her tail and dipped her muzzle. A sudden shyness overwhelming her. But she ghosted forward to stand nearer. Though she didn't touch, Sanja. Her presence was enough.

She would find a place to bed down later. There was too much going through her mind.