Hoshor Plains i was a goddess — now i ache.

all welcome, tag for reference, but more than welcome to join as well! <3

The fae drifted across the snow-laden earth, delicate flakes settling upon her fur like whispered blessings. Her paws barely disturbed the pristine white, yet the trail she left behind was undeniable; an invitation, a promise. She knew someone would follow.
Hemera carried herself with quiet dignity, her pace measured, unhurried. Plum eyes narrowed, sweeping the landscape, ever watchful. At any moment, she expected a presence to emerge from the hush of winter’s grasp.
„O preoteasă are nevoie de un gardian,” she murmured, the ancient tongue slipping past her lips like a ghost of home; rarely spoken, but never forgotten. Traveling alongside @Periane was not only a blessing for her, but for them both. Sisters, bound by faith. 
Then, as if the world itself held its breath, she halted. The silence pressed in, thick and knowing. Her ears flicked, attuned to the hush that carried meaning of its own.

He drifted around the valley for a few days, traipsing ever northward only to turn back once he hit the taiga. Headed south again, Bushtit felt compelled to check in with his mom and @Soto for a few hours. Then he hit the road once more, loping in the shadow of the Sunspires until he reached the biggest lake he’d ever seen.

He crept around it, eyeing the flock of geese bobbing out in the middle, where the water had either thawed or perhaps never frozen. Bushtit remembered his mother pointing out a flock of the noisy birds, winging south late last year. Were they returning now that spring was just around the corner?

Their honks faded behind him as he trekked northward across a snowy plain on the far side of the lake. The snow here was pristine, at least until he came across a set of footprints. The intrigued youngster followed them until they led him to a pale she-wolf standing like a statue.

Bushtit froze also, staring at her. He hadn’t had very good luck with strangers—particularly women—despite being a softhearted mama’s boy. He hesitated to approach, so he held back. He bit his lip, wondering if and when she’d notice him.

periane lingered just behind hemera, her presence quiet but unmistakable—a shadow stitched to her sister priestess’s side.
the snow whispered beneath their steps, the cold brushing through her fur, but she felt no chill. only the steady hum of purpose. of faith.
when hemera halted, periane did the same, pale eyes lifting to trace the horizon.
she felt him before she saw him. the boy—small, hesitant, hovering like a breath not yet exhaled.
periane did not move, nor did she call out. she only watched, gaze gentle, but heavy with knowing.
this was not her moment to lead. she would let the boy decide. she would let him step forward—if he dared.

And soon, they were no longer alone, as expected. Hemera turned, her gaze settling upon Periane, who had already taken note of the quiet stranger. Yet when she followed her sister’s line of sight, she saw nothing at first; only the stillness of the world, wrapped in winter’s hush. Her head tilted slightly, then, like a wisp of frost catching the light, she noticed him. A pale boy, lingering at the edges, hesitant to step forward. 
The doe beside her remained unmoving, yet there was no wariness in her stillness; only quiet welcome. Perhaps it was best if she, too, did not move towards him. So Hemera stood, a figure carved in hushed reverence, her presence as unyielding as stone, a soft grunt escaping her throat. The little ghost has been noticed.
Hemera’s gaze drifted back to Periane, a silent question resting upon her features. „A priestess requires a guardian,” she murmured once more, this time in the common tongue, „Would you not agree?” The words hung in the air, a quiet invitation. Yet even as she spoke, her plum eyes found their way back to the boy, watching, waiting.

The woman’s svelte figure shifted in a way that confused his eye. It took Bushtit a second to realize there was a second wolf standing just behind her. She maneuvered into plainer view alongside the first, prompting the boy to sip in a breath and shrink a step backward. He froze again, beholding the lovely pair, his heart beating so loud in his chest he wondered if they could hear it.

The second woman—of petite build and sandy hues—spoke, though her voice was so low, Bushtit couldn’t quite parse her words. Fortunately, he’d picked up some lipreading abilities after spending so much time with Towhee. He thought he got the gist of the question, though he couldn’t decide whether it was aimed at her companion or himself.

He blinked, waited a few ticks, then pointed at his own chest and mouthed, “Who, me?”

periane’s gaze softened, though her expression remained composed—serene, like still water. her eyes swept over the boy as he gestured to himself, lips forming silent words. she noticed the slight tremble in his limbs, the tentative air about him, and felt a gentle pang of familiarity. she had seen this before—the uncertain steps of one seeking where they might belong.
she did not answer his question aloud, not yet. instead, she let hemera’s words linger between them, the weight of them settling like snow upon their small gathering. a priestess requires a guardian.
periane inclined her head slightly toward her sister, acknowledging the sentiment, though her attention returned to the boy.
do you wish to be one? her voice was low, melodic—a careful balance of invitation. a guardian. or is it something else that brought you here?
she held his gaze, patient, but searching. she would not press him, but she would listen. always, she would listen.

„Yes,” A quiet answer to an unspoken question, leaving much to be pondered. Hemera dipped her head ever so slightly, a silent invitation for the boy to approach.
Her plum gaze flickered toward Periane as her sister pressed the boy further. Would he be one? Or had he simply strayed too far from his pack? She had scouted the Sunspire Mountains and the western reaches alone, finding little more than silence. The vale stood apart, claimed by warriors. If he did not belong to another, then something else had led him here. Fate? Or the will of God?
Hemera turned her attention back to the ghostly boy, his dark eyes studying them both. She did not push, did not demand answers. Instead, she waited. He was not a warrior, that much was clear; but even a quiet presence could serve its purpose. Even a shadow could ward off what lurked in the dark.

Together, the pair of women made it clear the query was meant for him. Bushtit stared at them for a long beat, feeling more thrown with every second that ticked past in tune with his slowing heartbeat. It was frankly an absurd thing to ask any stranger, never mind a young boy.

The fuck? he muttered under his breath, searching for something more tactful to say to them. Clearing his throat and raising his voice, Bushtit could only offer, No… thank… you…?

periane studied the boy, her gaze unwavering, thoughtful. his hesitation, his uncertainty—it was expected. few embraced the call of the divine without resistance.
she inclined her head, a slow nod, acknowledging his words without pressing further.
then you are not meant to be. her voice was smooth, quiet, carrying neither disappointment nor judgment—simply fact.
her gaze flickered to hemera for a brief moment before returning to the boy.
where do you belong, boy?
the question was not a demand, but it carried weight all the same.

I hope I got your characters correctly <3

The boy refused, as expected. And what a gift he turned away from! Serving the Lord, devoting one’s life to His will. A blessing. An honor. Yet, not all were ready to walk the righteous path. Some had to wander in the shadows before they could find their way to the light.
Hemera took a measured moment to observe the scene before her. Between the two of them, Periane was the gentler presence, soft-spoken, coaxing. Hemera, in contrast, carried an intensity that demanded more; expected more.
„Then you are not meant to be.”
The words fell with certainty, neither laced with disappointment nor judgment. Simply truth.
Her plum gaze flickered from Periane back to the boy, her expression smoothing into neutrality. „He may be lost,” she remarked, tilting her head ever so slightly. She did not say he was lost from faith. Only from his family.

Amazing! :D

Despite his own objection, Bushtit’s chest tightened at the rejection that came just as swiftly as the original invitation. He sucked in a steadying breath but said nothing. What was there to say? His dark eyes bounced between their two lovely faces, though they didn’t leave him hanging very long. One asked a question, which the other answered on his behalf.

I’m not lost, he said quickly. After a beat, he added, I’m actually on my way to deliver an important message. I’d better get going. But it was nice to meet you, even though they’d never even exchanged names. Um, take care.

When he turned to go, he couldn’t help but draw comparisons between this encounter and the one with Zephyra. The woman who’d raised him was so different from those he’d met out in the wild. It was really starting to throw him. But as he angled westward toward the river that bisected the Kintla and the Great Bear, Bushtit could only shrug and file it away for future contemplation.

periane watched the boy with quiet grace, her smile delicate, warm despite the coldness of his refusal. safe travels, then, she said softly, dipping her head in parting. may the wind carry your message swiftly, and may you find gentle company along the way. there was no bitterness in her voice, only a quiet sincerity. some were not ready. others may never be.
she turned back to hemera as his small form retreated into the distance, the soft sigh of her breath mingling with the breeze. shall we? her gaze lingered a moment longer on the horizon, thoughtful, before she fell into step beside her sister, the gentle swish of her tail brushing the ground as they moved forward. i wonder if, one day, he'll realize how close he was to the light.
the road ahead remained long, but it was easier in good company.

exit Hemera! <3

Hemera arched a brow at his swift response. Perhaps he truly wasn’t lost; though to her, he still seemed adrift. She gave a brief nod, letting Periane’s blessing settle between them. Hemera was not without manners, so she murmured, „Safe travels,” her plum gaze lingering on the boy for a moment before shifting back to her sister.
„Of course.” She accepted Periane’s offer with a smile, one of rare sincerity. „He is young, with much to learn.” Her sister was right; he had been so close! All he needed was a leap of faith. „He will come around.” The certainty in her voice was unwavering. They always did, in time.
Her gaze drifted to the horizon, to the long road ahead. Though their journey had only just begun, Periane had proven a worthy companion. Hemera would keep her close. And perhaps, eventually, she would share the visions she held for the future. But for now, the sandwoman kept them to herself.