Ghost Lion Crag hawkmoon

AW

it gave arunik'ra no pleasure to be so far from malkaria's realm, but she had a purpose. as of late she had found herself immersed in nausea, and had taken to the high steppes to find slippery elm to restore both her vigor and mood.

the narrow she-wolf, her belly banded and girthed by the squirming masses in her stomach, was still surprisingly agile given her condition. she kept to the rakish foot-path that carved up the crag, her eyes trained skyward -- she hoped that the mesa ahead would have red elm in spades, but having never reached the summit, had no idea if her goal was obtainable.

Sikuaq meant to return west. He had already happened by two packs— information he would surely return to his sister— but it was the scent of pregnancy, of vulnerability, that brought him up onto the mesa, hunting for the source of the scent with a straight and skulking trot. His eyes like wilting saffrons scoured the cold landscape, picking out the carmine shape of a small huntress as he came loosely to a stop.

He hadn't decided what he would do once he found her, so he hung back, nearly fifty yards, and watched her keenly with ears perked and tail lank; indicating his present lack of intent.

the sunspear would have kept to her path until she breached the summit, were it not for a dark shade that spilled in a ledge not too far from her. she paused, one slender limb bent and tucked paw held raised. there was nothing inviting about the spectre that haunted the slope: he was huge, skeletal, and ghastly.

arunik'ra placed her paw on the ground and straightened herself up, turning to face him. her neck stiffened and she held her delicate skull aloft, studying him boldly as she awaited some sort of action from the grim vision.

Hades' hound watched, his acid eyes glowing, as the she-wolf like foxfire, and welling with the unborn, turned to face him without any discernible sign of needed concern. The Tartok lowered his skull, the hunch of craggy shoulders becoming fiercely prominent of his silhouette as he prowled carefully forward— a panther in motion. If anything, he seemed more wary of her, than she was of him.

She smelled of many more than just herself, and he was aware that he carried no recent scent of companionship of his own, making it impossible to even bluff if he had wanted such a thing. He had no intention of stirring any pack pots, but he yearned for social interaction anyway, and it was easy for the massive cur to turn his predatory nature into something more welcoming.

Keeping his head low was the best he could do for such a small wolf. He walked forward without menace— although his curiosity could appear as such given his nefarious countenance— and boldly sought to find her limits for his presence.

arunik'ra did not take her gaze from the ghoul. in the way a horse might instinctively be wary of a dark hole, arunik'ra was wary of the shadow. it was dark and swallowing and she did not trust it.

her hackles lifted clearly along her back in serrated edges as the male approached. she lifted her tail and chin, the thin line of her rapier teeth visible by a silent lift of her lips. come no closer, her language commanded.