Haunted Wood well you know november has come

The dim, hazy woods are not welcoming, but he's become used to the sense of unease. He wears it like a second skin now, and if the fog drifting between the gnarled oak trees sets him on edge a little more then it's just another drop in the pond. He tries not to think on it too long; soon the forest will fade into the background of a much longer journey, as all the places before it have. There's somewhere he needs to be — he just doesn't know where.
His journey is slower than he'd like; there's a limp to his gait, and he still bears almost-healed wounds across his body, hidden by thick, disheveled golden fur. In his dreams, sometimes, he remembers receiving them. He doesn't remember why. Something in the air almost reminds him of the reason. He pauses, lifts his nose, and closes his eyes. The wind is soft, but it whispers in a thousand voices, achingly familiar and alien at the same time — it's his name. He remembers his name.
Cortland. Cortland. Cortland.

Autumn was upon the land once more, and Zarina was joyful for it. Yet, at the same time, sadness cloaked her body, invisible to the eye but felt in her heart and mind. A shadow followed her everywhere—the shadow of her past—and it forced her to flee from place to place. Autumn was her favorite time of year, and her least favorite. It reminded her of every memory of her life, the good and the bad. A husband she had run from when she was too young to have such a thing. Unborn children ejected by her body. Many, many men afterwards, in an attempt to mask the pain. She forgot who she was until she became the woman she was now.

Up ahead through the trees, a golden shape slowly formed. A male. Oh, good. Perhaps she could charm him like all the others… but for what purpose? She despised the idea of joining a pack, even if it meant dying in the winter. She did not need food. She knew how to hunt for herself. What could laying with this man—if she did—accomplish? She could not hide from herself so easily anymore. Well. No matter. She would charm him all the same—or he would reject her. Either way. She approached slowly and called, “Greetings.”

ooc: Is it ok if I join? If not I can delete. :-)


Her eyes popped open as she heard a voice from afar, she had been resting under a thick pine to cloak her whereabouts. What was she running from? The apocalypse? She had been running for weeks, if not months; and her tired formation lay there lethargically. The sound of a female's voice and the scent of hers mixed with another alarmed her, and it was enough to gather herself upon her feet. She looked around but didn't see them, and hoped they didn't see her. 

She managed a swift escape out from under the pine, and rounded herself to a bush where she peered out at the two. Not shy, but more startled if anything.... 

What if they had come to kill her? Were they the pack wolves she had been smelling the night before? Her tired eyes blinked several times to wash away the blur of sleep to gain a better focus on them. They didn't look as though they had been searching for another party, and watching, she finally had gathered they too were strangers. It was always a tough outlook when one was asleep and wakes up to voices around them, of course, one would take precaution. 

She stepped out from her hiding place; surveying the two as she kept a safe untrusting distance. She knew all too well they would have eventually sniffed her out and might have attacked her while asleep. Paranoid much? Onyxia wasn't one to just hand out trust to any wolf, especially not from where she came from. They always attacked without question and most times killed if anything. She too was guilty of doing so, but this wasn't her turf. She stood there watching with a keen eye to measure the situation and to see if threat would be promised or not.

G'day...

Was all that she could summon from her lips, she offered a bold voice to hide her startled wakefulness.

you're fine! thank you both for joining!

He hears the approach of another through the stillness of the woods, and the voices are snuffed instantly. The silence left in their wake is piercing, broken only by soft footfalls. The ghost's ears perk and he turns slowly, gaze already fixed in the direction of the sound when a woman appears, cloaked in fiery and orange hues; there's something achingly familiar about the vibrant colors. He chuffs and opens his mouth to return the greeting —
But he can't. The inability dawns on him slowly, ears pinning to his skull as his mouth closes. It feels wrong, like something is missing — but he doesn't have time to linger on it. Another stranger appears, the color of midnight and oozing wariness; she doesn't seem to know the other woman, and the oddness of the situation strikes him. Three perfect strangers in a dim, nondescript forest — nothing tying them but the exact moment their paths have crossed. He dips his head in greeting to the dark woman, and gazes between the two, indifferent but curious.

ooc: Sorry for the wait in reply, but I was waiting for Zarina to reply.


..... Silence was among them, and it was a feeling of awkwardness that Onyxia couldn't stand. Her eyes danced from one wolf to the other. A small shy smile spread across her muzzle as she studied them. 

Lovely weather isn't it?

She had to break the code of silence by offering small talk. Nothing of a high standard, but anything just to kill the silence. She stayed in her position, not wanting to get too close to the pair. Her eyes still danced from one to the next. She could feel her stomach rumble in hunger, it had been days since she had a proper meal; as she had been feeding on small prey such as hare, squirrels and mice. She had a deep craving for fawn, or a young doe. It was much harder to hunt solo; but she had pulled it off, but it was a rarity that she ever did. Perhaps she was just a poor huntress. The gurgle of her belly might have been misinterpreted as a snarl. She offered a sheepish grin in reaction.

no worries, looks like zarina is inactive so i'll be pping her out of the thread!

One of the women speaks, just as the other turns away suddenly, leaving the two of them to their own devices. He watches her leave, then glances to the dark-furred woman who had spoken, offering a reassuring smile. But — he can't answer her. He lifts one golden paw to his throat and shakes his head; it's not the most accurate, as his affliction is a missing tongue, but surely she'll get the point. He can't talk.
But he can listen well enough. He tilts his head slightly as he lowers his paw, glancing around them and then back to the other wolf. Everyone has something to say, he's learned — everyone except him. But maybe there's an advantage there, somewhere. He'll just have to search for it, one stranger at a time.