Felltree Marsh Iron

@Sitka -- she's out of the Marsh now, near enough the Sanctuary to have smelled it but not near enough to be a disturbance and heading toward The Tangle!

Sangilak was now beyond the snowy plains, well fed and content. Tatkret had eaten his fill, and she now ranged ahead of them. They had rested the night within the proximity of the carcass, and eaten once more in the morning. They could go on for a long while yet without any more food, and if they must do that, they would. But Spring had come, and the season was bountiful. Were it Winter, Sangilak would not be so content to wander any. As a dispersal wolf, Sangilak sought to find where it was she would linger... be it temporarily, or where she would lay her roots. Her age meant she had no desire yet to breed or be with child; where her ambitions rest was hard for even her to discern. She was not so ready as her sister had been to stake her claim and begin in that manner. Sangilak wanted something else, too; she wanted to know the wilds, like her sister had not. She felt she would be wiser for it, and for the while this was her motive. Sangilak also sought migratory herds and where they headed, but as of yet she had found none. She followed her nose and fretted not; they would be found.

Her eyes caught sight of wood destroyed by a tempest. She paused before the ruin, wondering at the safety of the route. But Sangilak imagined something of worth could be found here; be it a hidden herd safe from the eyes of the warier wolves or be it more knowledge of the vegetation and landscape, she would know it for herself. So she struck forward and moved through the marsh.

Each and every sound she was implicitly aware of. The safety of the land around her was questionable; fallen trees rest upon trees that had remained within the earth but only just, their roots exposed and clinging to the earth. There were signs of life's return here, too, but Sangilak noted that the marshlands were uninhabitable and offered very little but for the thrill of making it out unscathed. It would be a challenge for one as hefty and weighty as she, but she had been in more challenging positions. Sangilak plod through the land, hearing the birds all around her. Their sounds were revealing, too; they had quieted some upon her entrance, but as some time had passed since then they sang again, no longer bothered. They were out of her reach, and to hunt here seemed like a fools errand.

By the time she escaped the place, she was covered in mud and wood and burrs; she panted heavily, and was thankful for the cover of cloud overhead. The atmosphere in the marsh had been suffocating, and she had decided that she would return to the Taiga another way. Ahead, in the far distance, was the crash of the sound. Her tail twitched at her hocks, pleased with the days success. Ah, but there was a pack nearby. She could smell the heady scent of wolves and her eyes turned toward the direction of the Sanctuary. An upturned lip was all she afforded it, before she angled her direction now toward the Tangle.

The Ghost had taken sanctuary with the company of the Sea Dogs - the loud, noisy, non-canine ones, that is - hunkered down on a cliff-side, high above their turbulent shores, sea-kissed gaze ever watching their mounting troubles from above. He had found entertainment in this viewing for a few days time, as spring brought upon the rising tensions of their mating season. Like great Titans, the massive males began their squabbles, bellowing great roars and throwing their weight about in careless, dangerous manners; their primitive rituals were interesting to gawk at in his abundant down time. But he could only watch the madness for so long before it too bored him, and so the brute went on the move again.

The Sea had always been his comfort zone, and so he stuck to the shore, heavy feet sinking deep into the sand as he padded forth, likely making his journey more energy-taxing than necessary - but his muscles were long since conditioned for such terrain. He covered a great distance through that day, making his way north all the while taking in the new scenery. He did not know where exactly he was going, or where he intended to stop; such was the life of a loner, with no real purpose in this life other than basic survival. 

At some point he decided to divert from the relatively straight northward path he had been taking, the thick smell of earthly life pulling him from the salty air of the coast into the uncertainty of the inner bramble. For miles, he had managed to avoid a single soul - perhaps due in part to his strategic avoidance of any heavily scented paths that may lead to the encounter of a pack - but his solo journey was about to be interrupted. 

He caught wind of the female only mere moments before his cerulean gaze saw her. She was but a dark, hulking figure in the distance, pieces of earth falling from her thick form as she proceeded onward. The bitch was on a mission, that was for sure - and on the premise that he lacked much motive for the time being, he decided to alter his course to sneakily follow her. The Wraith just happened to be down-wind of her, and so he would likely remain undetected. But it was not long before he gained on her enough that his footsteps would no longer be silent, and the brute fully expected to be noticed now. He was cautious, of course, since it was likely that the woman would not appreciate his encroaching on her, but he was also confident he could handle whatever ill feelings she may cast upon him. The Ghost was bored and looking to stir the pot - would this she-beast humor him?

She tread onward, mindful of her surroundings. Only in the forest would any be able to be undetected by her eye, so vigilant was she; Sitka, however, had managed. It was only when she had broken free from the foliage to head to the next forest that Sangilak could see him when she turned to glance over her shoulder; she had more felt him there, than anything else, that strange six sense coming to play as her eyes caught him.

That he had been following her this whole time was still unknown to her. On his person were signs that he, too, had just come from the woods... Sangilak turned around and altered her path for a brief moment, so that she could fully regard this wolf. If he were heading in the same direction, she was ill at ease allowing someone she did not trust to be given access to the more vulnerable parts of her anatomy that required more effort to protect.

Her gait toward him was steady and confident, yet there were no allusions to aggression in her visage. Sangilak moved toward him to perform the ritual wolves would when meeting the other for the first time or the next, though paused just before him to lift her head high. The movement was not her way of posturing, but her way of assessing his acceptance of her own movements. She did not know this man and watched his own body language, but seeing no tell-tale signs of discontent or denial, Sangilak drew herself alongside him, her nose interacting with the hairs first upon his shoulder before drifting downward to pause at his hindquarter briefly.

She smelled the sea upon him; it was toward that she headed. Salt crystals clung to the tips of his fur, making it coarser than most. She deduced the whereabouts of his age; he would know by her own scent she was not (yet) sexually mature. The thickness to his furs hinted that he might have come from a region similar to her own, and this intrigued her greatly. Sangilak drew away from him once her brief investigation had finished and then her gaze panned back to the forest ahead before falling back to him, silently suggesting they continue their journey onward with one another; she assumed, by the salt that seemed to outline his edges, that he was going where she was.

When he was finally detected, the woman seemed un-alarmed - to this, the Wraith was slightly surprised, but also mildly impressed. And rather than resorting to aggression or avoidance, she spun about and approached with fearlessness and confidence - two very attractive qualities to the brute. His progression stopped as she came upon him, his stance grounded and his posture matching her bold dominance, but he too showed no signs of contempt. His own nostrils would flare, inhaling her scent as she came close, daring to inspect him without his invitation. But he allowed her, intrigued by bold approach, and his own muzzle would trail softly about her form as she moved around him, taking in the olfactory information that he could. She was young, not yet of age, but he would have hardly deduced such knowledge from the way she carried herself alone. 

When their silent greetings came to a close, the woman motioned him to follow with simply her gaze, and like some entranced snake, he followed. In truth, Sitka had no destination to speak of. But having lacked mental stimulation before, he now found himself curious about this unspoken girl. And so he would follow, humoring her path in hopes it would lead to something worthwhile. He soon came up beside her, matching her pace with his powerful, conditioned strides. The Ghost was definitely going to see this one through.

For her age, she had seen much. She was mature in all ways but the one; she had never known youth, never been given the opportunity to. Any time an attempt was made to behave as the child she truly had been when a cub was rebuked, and her path would be adjusted again and again. Her genetics attributed to much of her present demeanor, but conditioning had played its own part as well. She was reared not with gentleness or sensitivity, but of the opposite qualities. There was plenty more growing for her to do; for now, Sangilak treated everything in an incredibly casual, lax manner. Her aloofness was the only telltale sign of her youth. As she did not know what she wanted, and was not yet heeding the howl of her ambition, there was little else for her to do but discover.

The ghost had accepted her invitation and together they moved. They moved in silent and commanding unison, and though they were night and day in color any onlooker might see that they complemented one another in their tread. Her ears were pricked atop her head and she remained alert, and one ear cupped toward the stranger, hearing how his heavyset step impacted the earth as her own did. Sangilak thought of his bearing and desired him for herself, not in a manner that regarded lust but in feeling and presuming his potential. Her cursory look moments before departure had not afforded her the chance to see if he bore any scars as she did beneath her thick and knotted furs, and her imagination was so limited that she could not imagine them.

She lengthened her stride, her shifting ears anticipating his following suit, to push them into a brisk jog onward. Sangilak looked at the place they were headed toward. A nameless forest that preceded the Tangle, thickly wooded and rich with green from the start. Sangilak sought to cut through the forest, which might take some time, to end the journey at the cliffs.