Sunset Valley What the night brings.

A ghost in the world, Nanou drifted. Lamented. Followed snowswept hills with hopes of finding something worthwhile.

Keep herself fed, then find a tall tree to sleep under. Try to forget how much she longed for the touch of another. 

For one in particular.

Then she'd curse herself for such thoughts. Rinse, and repeat. The cycle was getting tiring, and the soldier who belonged to none was quickly falling into the lull of monotony. In some ways, it was freeing, and in others, oh so terribly maddening. She thought of plunging herself from some tall peaks and letting oblivion take her away. 

She could not. The last gift she'd been given, her life, could not be wasted so. 

And Nanou did not deserve an easy way out in the first place.

Night, and her stomach had turned over. The body gave no warning; immediate, and she had fled away, out beneath the stars to give rest to her husband on the mountain while she emptied her belly.
Ayovi yearned for women, if not in the same way. Skorpa had given her everything, but she missed her mother and sister’s companionship. She so longed to ask them questions and hear their laughter again. More than anything she wanted to tell them once more how much she loved them.
So it is strange when she catches a faint odor on the northwind. The huntress hesitates, clearing foul lips with a tongue. And the woman surprises her— a tall, feminine form wrapped in black, long tail flowing behind her. She moves gracefully through the night as if she were an expected visitor.
Ayovi draws closer then, her figure casting a muted shadow under moonlight.
“Hello,” she breathes, voice low but clear, with a gentleness to it.

A flick of an ear towards in an inquiring voice, and Nanou's attention becomes set on a woman of cloud white and pebbled silver, the antithesis of her own shroudings, standing beneath the glow of the moon and casting a tall shadow across the snowy earth, one that ended where her own ink-slicked steps began.

A slight smirk is drawn to the corners of her face, if only out of relief to finally be met with another woman for company, for once. Hello She calls back, her voice low and smooth and tinged with a quiver of almost.. excitement. She wished to give the same impression, one of peaceful nature.

Muscles shift beneath a curtain of dark fur as she drifts closer, stopping at what she deemed a respectable distance... plenty of space. She sat back onto squared haunches like the simple act of sitting was something practiced and drilled.

The scent of sickness is easy to taste in the air as the girl draws near, and Nanou cocks her head to the side with thoughtfully. Are you well?

“Is it that obvious?” She can barely stomach the horror— knowing she’s either painfully transparent or smells still like the bitter acid of sickness.
“Spirits,” the huntress swears beneath her breath, and runs her wrist fastidiously against the side of her face; clearing lips and teeth with a tongue. 
“I’m Ayovi,” she owns, though too embarrassed to test the air for the woman’s scent. She is grateful regardless that she appears more amused than repulsed, and her eyes hold the deep red a moment before continuing licks.
“From the north mountain,” she continues, “are you a member of Saatsine, Darukaal?”