Greatwater Lake The Ladybugs Are Flying

Engel, with how his age was finally catching up to him, had always had the lifelong dream of going out over known lands. To explore new ones. And he had been doing so, since that day he was forced to leave. Although he had mostly forgotten about that day, as well as those he lost that day.

He reached a large lake, and bent his neck down to drink. The aging wolf had come a long way, and he planned to continue. Unless something caught his eye, which often happened and made him stay in one place for a time. 

As he was drinking, a small bug landed right between his eyes, but he did not feel it, nor even notice it.

@Spencer

The soft, rippling coo of the lake has almost lulled her to sleep when it begins to break apart with the sound of canine lapping. She is irritated that her nap has been interrupted. Her sleep hasn't been pleasant, marred by nightmares frought with various images of horror. Perhaps it is for the better that she stays awake a little longer. Spencer doesn't get up, but rather scoots on her belly to peer between the rigid grasses growing along the shore. There stands a male, reddish fur of an oddly short texture. Equally as odd is his smaller, more slender stature, and she wonders if she is bigger than him. The snowy girl watches him drink for a moment, but then, a small red beetle lands right between his eyes. This brings a smile to her face, the sensation of her lips turning up instead of down seems foreign and strange. She realizes that she has not smiled in weeks.

Ordinarily Spencer would not have approached him. But as he  is small, and possibly aging, she feels less threatened by his presence. And with a  couple of days of small game in her belly, she thinks she can at least escape him if he decides to display any aggression. Crawling forward so that her small, pretty face juts between the reeds, Spencer clears her throat. Um, she says, her voice raspy. She coughs again, and the words flow much more smoothly. There is a beetle on your face. Her voice is gentle - informative - rather than mocking.

Engel still hadn't noticed the bug, although he did notice when something was moving out of the reeds. He however did not make a reaction until the face fully came out of the reeds, gave him quite the jump. He almost felt his front legs slip from the mud of the lake, a shocked expression on his face. He did not expect someone to suddenly come out of the reeds of the lake.

"That was not-" He cuts off, going cross-eyed to find the lady bug on his face. He shook it off, then went back to speaking, now wearing a frown. "That was not very lady like, scaring me like that..."

She is started by his reaction, flinching, her ears lying down and rising up again. She doesn't quite know what to say, other than a soft Sorry. She can't understand how accidentally startling someone deems her "unladylike," but she decides to ignore it. It's difficult not to laugh at the expression he wears as he attempts to look at the ladybug perched between his eyes - however, her current state of mind prevents her from doing  anything more than smile wanly at him. 

The young woman hesitates before deciding to reveal herself, stepping through the reeds and sitting down a respectful distance away from him. She sits like a cat - quiet, slow, wrapping her tail around her front paws. 

Who are you? 

Engel makes a slight move back to give her room to come out of the reeds, revealing herself to be covered in white fur. "It's okay, I can forgive someone as...exquisite as yourself" he said, with a grin. He didn't think of it being perhaps too forward, he was always like that.

"Engel. But some choose to call whatever they want, and I always fine with that" he answered, glancing away for a moment, then back to her. "That's if you want" he added, giving a wink of his. "And what may I call you?"

He speaks flattery to which she is unsure of how to respond. The woman isn't much of a flirt, but her heart nevertheless thuds in rebellion - he is older than she, the age of her father, and in some sick way she finds this fact to be... thrilling. Her cheeks burn, flushed pink skin thankfully hidden beneath her pale fur.

call him whatever she wished? this is an interesting concept, but again she finds herself lost for words. mentally she calls him "red," but she doesn't feel playful or creative enough to voice this aloud. engel will have to do. Spencer, she responds when asked for her name. an awkward silence ensues as she, once more, falls silent.

Engel gives a smile to accompany the flattery he was giving, as he saw her reaction. It was one of the things he enjoyed about his flattery, the reaction he could never guess what it could be.

Spencer. He played the name over in his head. And could not think of a line to say to go with it. Sometimes he could, sometimes he could not. "Spencer...a nice name." He started to look about, wondering where abouts he was. He hadn't met anyone else in the area, and decided that maybe this place might be worthwhile to stay at for a few weeks. "You wouldn't happen to know where this place is, would you?"

Thank you, Engel, she says flatly, though her smile has disappeared. Save for the encounter with Grayday and Feyre, it has been weeks since she last sat down and spoken with someone. Or was it months? Time was fleeting, flowing past her as swifty as the currents of a river. Needless to say, she is out of  conversational practice, hence providing the bear minimun in the way of social interaction with this man, Red. For a moment she imagines folding herself against him, enjoying the warmth of another. A shiver runs visibly up her spine. But she doubts she will glean this sort of thing from the stranger and she pushes the pleasant imagery from her mind.

Spencer shakes her head with a small frown. No, not really, comes her breathy reply. I only know that the sea lies north of here. I come from the mountains in the east. The Rocky Mountains... The Rockies are her place of origin, but beyond that she knows of no name to call this wilderness.

Engel was at least hoping she would know something about where they were. Spencer did not. Only where the sea met the shore. "Well...could you point me in that direction? To where the sea meets the shore. Because I do enjoy strolls along the shore" he said, a gleam in his eyes hinting. "But if you are otherwise pre-occupied with something of a different matter, I'm sure I can find you again...if that's what you want." Sometimes they did want to see him again. Other times...well, that was an entirely different matter that ended with biting.

Yes, she nods. It is no trouble showing him where he seeks to go. But first. something else comes to mind, a piece of information that she thinks  might help him. There's a pack along the way. M... Morningside, I believe. She sniffs absently. I met their alpha, Grayday. He is very kind. If you stop at their borders and call for someone, perhaps they can help you find... whatever it is that you're searching for.

Meanwhile, Engel has called her out on her preoccupation. Is it so obvious? Spencer becomes ashamed of her unspoken thoughts as she emits a brief, shaky sigh. I'm not preoccupied. I just - she swallows the sizable lump that has suddenly formed in her throat. If she continues she will undoubtedly appear weak, and vulnerable, even more so than she already does, being little more than a mangy bag of bones. Can you... Stay with me? Her voice rises in pitch with the final word, then she blunders on. Or may I stay with you? I'm sorry. It's just been... lonely, since I left home. Her gaze parts from his, seeking the earth at her paws.

Engel had a think about it. It sounded like a good place to rest up before the worst of winter settled in. He shrugged at the suggestion, but he planned to head wherever this place was at.

When she offered that perhaps she could come, that made him grin. "That would be great. If it really is what you want...So, where is the pack? Would you care to lead the way, perhaps? I will follow." She did look like some company would do her some good. And two heads were always better than one.

end here?

With a strengthening breath, her large eyes return to his. They are warm brown, like earth after a rain, and they remind her of her father's eyes. He has agreed to stay with her. Relief floods through her veins, because, as long as they stay alive, neither will be alone any longer. Spencer is a weak creature, aware that death is at her doorstep if she does not find a pack, or at least a companion. The gods have given her both this afternoon. It is strange to think that had she decided against peering through the reeds at this rust-hued man, her luck would have continued to plummet. 

She gets to her feet. I will show you the way. She has spent the last few days resting by the lake, and she is ready to travel again. It won't take us long to reach the borders. Without another word, the ghost turns tail and lopes into the forest, already feeling her that her burden of dread has grown much lighter, easier to bear.