Ocean's Breath Plateau old souls

Set for the next night after Donnelaith's fire. All welcome, and as always, Nereides are welcome to join at any point. ^^

She stood at the edge of the plateau where it overlooked the tall sequoias— as much as anything could overlook the monolithic trees. They were scorched, though it seemed much of the canopies had survived. She could see embers still burn there in the dusk and in some places, the fire still roared. A storm had passed, and it seemed it had left this destruction in its wake. Whatever (or whoever) had lived there, if anything, no longer did. Meteora's expression was marked by a stoic frown, her fierce sea green eyes searching for any sign of life within the forest or upon the nearby shore.

Life was cruel, and all Nereides knew this. The Sea was a harsh and unforgiving Mother, as were the other deities that ruled the natural world. They did not care for your feelings or mourning. "May the souls trapped within find peace," she murmured softly in a solitary prayer. Still, she searched, and here she would wait until the embers died— for there would be opportunity within the ashes, and she would be ready to take advantage of it.

Leaving @Szymon to guard their home (after convincing him that she would be safe, she would avoid the flames, and that Deirdre might need her), Doe had set off to find the pale witch of the woods. The storm had been confusing, chaotic, and Doe hadn't caught sight of Deirdre through all her panicked searching. Maybe today, in the aftermath, the forest queen would be found.

But Doe doubted it. Many had gone missing, lately. Her own daughters - one dead and one disappeared - and then Murgash and his young charge. Skellige, too, was now among those departed, along with his infant son. This scored her heart more deeply than the rest - of all the wolves to have left her, she was most shocked by the abandonment of the Leviathan. He'd been her first true companion in these strange lands. He'd taken her into his home and allowed her into his family - she'd nursed his children at her teats.

And now he was gone. And now Deirdre was gone, just like all the rest. Had it not been for Szymon and his stalwart support, the red woman was not sure what she would have done. For now, though, she persevered. There were injured wolves to care for, young puppies to look after, and a territory to set back into order. She would focus on the first two while Szymon handled the last just as soon as she returned home, but for now, she owed this to the forest queen - to the girl she'd come to think of as family just as surely as Skellige.

It became apparent very quickly that Deirdre was not within the woods. If there was anything in there, it was not hale enough to answer her calls. Deirdre was dead or Deirdre had fled, and Doe mulled over those options as she passed by the tall sentiels and headed further down the coast, no longer really searching for any of Donnelaith's former inhabitants. She was not ready to go home, and her paws carried her along a path that soon became familiar to the vapid shewolf. The plateau she'd almost called home was just ahead, and upon it, there stood a rugged and handsome figure. The shewolf paused only a moment before moving forward once more, with a little more caution this time. She could smell no border markings apart from hers and Donnelaith's own, but that did not mean there were not other wolves around.

"Hail, stranger," she called as she drew near, coming within a stone's throw before she came to a halt, fire-singed nose twitching as she attempted to take in the other's scent. The smoke off her own pelt covered up most of what she might've gleaned.

Ignore my rambling lol

From here, the scent of smoke was not overpowering, though she could see it curl up into the dusky sky. Fire and salt. Her younger sister, perhaps, could read the omen that lay within the natural incense— but reverent of the deities as she was, Meteora was a she-wolf of physical aptitude over the spiritual. Perhaps it meant there would only be destruction, here, or perhaps it meant rebirth. The silvery amazon decided for herself it was the second.

Her sharp eyes caught a dark silhouette emerge from the burning trees, and Meteora watched impassively as it drew nearer and nearer. She did not move as the other she-wolf; upon neutral territory, the Nereides felt no reason to either relax or tense her proud stature. The woman, understandably, smelled of fire and burning fur after her trek through the wood. Meteora crinkled her nose for the twinge she felt there, but after a moment she sneezed, unable to stifle it.

"Chaírete," she responded, the potent scent making her eyes sting. In her lilting, heavily accented common, she asked, "Was that your home?"

Doe's ears flickered, and she decided that the strange word passed as a greeting, in her books. Since she had already spoken her own words of greeting, the shewolf saw no reason to further the conversation. She'd hoped that this would be a wolf of Donnelaith - one she hadn't had the chance to meet - but it was clear the she knew nothing of the sacred woods.

Feeling dejected, the shewolf turned to gaze upon the sea, keeping the stranger to the left of her and always in sight. Her attention, though, was focused on her deity, and she did not, at first, realize that the shewolf had spoken to her. The words were heard, of course, and echoed softly in her mind, but it was a long moment before her ears flickered and she realized they needed a response, if she was going to be polite.

"No," she replied, refocusing her gaze on the other female, more appreciatively this time. "I am a sea wolf - we live in the bay beside it. But my sister lived in those woods, and she has not been found."

It was strange to now identify herself as belonging to the sea, when she had been born and raise in a bone-dry land, but Doe was a malleable creature, ever-shifting as time went by. She'd bourne sea wolves unto the land, had married her fisherman and lived by his waters. She was a sea wolf, now.

"Do you have a home?" she asked, her gaze now appraising. She was a fine specimen, this stranger.

Meteora noted the melancholy nature of the other but maintained a respectful silence— even as her question hung, unanswered, between them. But the woman returned to herself shortly after that, and the silver Nereides would not condemn her obvious grief. Losses were part of life and unchangeable, though it was respectful to allow oneself space to truly feel and accept it. Whatever had lived in this forest, it was clear the woman felt its loss keenly. Her explanation made it even clearer for Meteora— the loss of a sister was great indeed.

"May the Sea embrace her," she murmured quietly, "if She does not return her to you." Cryptic as the phrasing was, the sentiment held, and it was far more respect than Meteora typically shared with outsiders. Out here in the Wilds, however, she and her followers were keenly alone— perhaps it was the scent of salt on this woman, such a familiar and nostalgic scent, that softened the amazon so.

"My home is wherever salt water and shoreline can be found," Meteora responded. "But no— I do not lay claim to any land here."

Doe nodded, easily accepting the other's well-wishes. The words built and easy camaraderie within the vapid shewolf. She was angry with the Sea, but it was a distant anger. One that she hardly dared to acknowledge in the light of day. Right then, in the bleary sunshine, Meteora was one of her own.

"My pack holds the bay behind me. And... there is a place among us for strong, warlike woman," she revealed, ears twisting in the direction of her home.