The Sentinels it's a cold world

i missed you all!! <3 here, have a trash prince  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

The morning was warm, the air heavy and muggy from the recent rain storm, though the sun shone now as if it had not been pouring through the night. He had been making his way down the coast into the Wild's southern reaches though in search of what he couldn't immediately say. He acknowledged it was probably wise to join up with a pack but he was inherently and habitually hesitant. His past history with a pack wasn't anything all that great or wonderful and naturally this projected to a hesitancy that all leaders would be like Anastasia and her crew in Siberia Copse. That they would abuse him and let him go hungry to sate their own petty need for revenge at his existence — something that was far out of his reaches of control. Scraps was what he'd lived off of, and the meager things he was able to hunt for himself were barely any better. This assumption was not a fair one but to be expected as it'd been all he had known all his life. It was this knowledge that made him reconsider his choice as he neared the borders of some pack. He didn't even know it's name. 

His body gave the signs that he would be svelte naturally albeit strong if one could look past the fact that he was skin and bones. Not to the point that it was literal but perhaps he was close. He didn't even know anymore. He just knew he was thinner than he should have been. Would they even take him? This he didn't have an answer for either. He wouldn't know if he didn't try. Thus, regardless of his reservations about this he stopped when there was more than an respectful distance between his body and their scent markers, tipped his soot masked face towards the heavens and let out a low howl, announcing his presence to them.

She danced beneath the sweeping canopy of leaves, dappled sunlight warming her dark fur. It was here, in these quiet spaces, that little Emaleth felt most at home; felt that her heart was whole, and that her soul had room to leave the small confines of her body. Perhaps it was the fanciful imaginations of youth, but the dark child could swear she felt the thrum of the ancient heartbeat of trees extend to her, vibrating deep in her bones. She found that these meditations sustained her, and she slipped away to be alone as often as she could.

A howl interrupted the stillness, far closer to her current location than she might have expected. Little Emaleth had a talent for voices, and though she remained distant from her pack mates— especially those that were not of her blood— she thought she recognized the calls of all those that called Donnelaith home. The one she heard now was different, and for a moment she froze, debating whether to leave it for her father to address.

But curiosity overrode caution, and the child soon sprinted to the source of the noise, coming to a halt some meters behind the safety of Donnelaith's borders. She considered the creature with mismatched blue-and-green eyes, remaining silent for the moment— unsure, perhaps, of the protocol required in greeting a stranger.

thanks for replying! :D

The sound of approaching footfalls alerted Tyulen whose soot colored ears cupped forth atop his skull, a small breath riddled with sharp anticipation left his lips as he watched the tree line for the emergence of whom had heard his call and chose to come to him. Divvying between his very instinctual and strong fight or flight response he had to take a slower, forced breath in order to calm himself. He'd been the one to call the leader and guardian(s) of these wolves to him, though the consideration to flee flashed in his mind's eye for a moment; but in the end Tyulen did not give into such cowardly thoughts. There was a chance that their leader wouldn't even take him in and thus he'd convinced himself that there was nothing to initially get hesitant about right off the bat — though if it worked or not would surely be discovered and soon Tyulen determined as the footfalls became louder despite how light they were. He expected the heavy, militaristic steps of Czar and even Anastasia but these held a delicate sort of rhythm to them that despite his reservations had the trash prince curious.

The figure that materialized from the shade of the tall sentinels within the pack's borders was not what Tyulen was expecting. A young girl — though closer to his age then he probably considered. He'd only just turned a year the past month, after all, though he felt like he'd endured many lifetimes of suffering and cruelty. She was cloaked in ebony with mismatched eyes: one green and the other blue; very pretty he couldn't help but think. He doubted that she led these wolves given her age, though she could have been a leader or guardian in training for all he knew; though she was silent as she regarded him. There was a brief albeit strange swell of self-consciousness as she studied him as he acknowledged that he wasn't much to look at. Handsome perhaps with enunciated sharp features but he was raggedy and thinner than he should have been.

“Hello,” That simple word was the kindest he'd ever been to anyone in his entire life thus far, but Tyulen argued with himself that it was because she was just a girl and that was the reason why he did not immediately revert to his usual sass, though he had, admittedly, thought up a few good quips he could have said instead.

technicalllllly aria is out on an adventure rn but i planned on having her back by today (whoops) so (:

The girl heard the howl from nearby, her ears perking at the call. She turned, trotting towards the call and therefor the visitor. Before she arrived she found the scent of sweet Emaleth nearby, her hear soaring. She loved both witches so much, and was thrilled to perhaps speak with one today. They were so sweet and so elegant for children, and she loved to see them. But reality set in, and her trot turned to a run as she realized the babe may have gone towards the howl. She prayed for a friendlier joiner, but she had no idea what she might be up against. 

Thankfully, by the time she arrived the stranger and Emaleth had already interacted-- even if it was just briefly. The two still stood at a healthy distance apart, and the stranger did not appear hostile in any manner. She approached, shoulders straight and posture tall, her pure white fur fluffed out slightly. Her white eyes watched him, their moonlike glow clear even in the light of day. She watched the man still, her tail raising slightly. She waited for his response, praying it'd be respectful. Donnelaith's members were wearing thin.

I'm so sorry, I forgot this was a joining thread. I am having Emaleth leave now that Aria is here, if @Tyulen returns and would like to continue. :<

She was about to speak when the white creature drew near— not Eilidh, but another of Donnelaith that the child considered her own family. Emaleth did not know the intricacies of Aria's relationship with her father, but the woman was nearly as constant in her life as he was; and more important, still, as her mother grew more distant. Still, the child could not mask the disappointment in her face, even as she offered the white woman a weak smile and a friendly sweep of her tail. Little Emaleth's game had been cut short, before it could begin, and she could no longer impose upon the stranger her power— the gravity in her title as Witch of the Wood.

After a beat, she rushed to Aria to nudge her chin affectionately and respectfully, before dismissing herself back to the heart of Donnelaith. As she retreated, the dark child did her best to mimic the lady's proud posture, wishing for all the world she could finally be big like her brothers, sisters, and parents.