Neverwinter Forest i was born to fly away

Despite that the rain hadn't dared to let up another day, Dirge did not ignore the beckon of the wilderness any longer. Though he would ultimately return to the sanctity offered by Moonspear, the necessity to stretch his legs took precedence. He had made decent time skirting along the sunken reaches of the Spine before arcing northward to the robust splash of evergreens and the tangle therein; it was there he lingered along their thinning edge, along the very cusp he considered the break before the plains and the river valleys beyond.

There was a particular chill to linger in the air in the early afternoon, the forest dark and damp in the mountain's shadow. One would daresay it a touch foggy even, the way that the misting elements and warming earth pulled clout together to set a stage. He found very little disturbed here, but it was just as difficult to tell whether or not it would be; Dirge did not make regular trips here by any means, yet it seemed a perfect stage for a number of events of the past. Namely from his own catalogue of memories—even out here, @Hydra's essence may as well have been teasing him. But he did not believe that she would follow him this far, not with the season. Not with the season that seemed to be reeling her in, bit by bit.

He wagered that was in part why he felt keen to return to Moonspear, why he would not push much further beyond this without reason. Where the call of the wilderness pulled at the reins of desire something fierce, this newer anomaly pulled him in close. The departure from Moonspear may as well have been killing two birds with one stone—he'd answer that call to venture, and to gather his thoughts appropriately so. With a shake of his coat to cast off clinging water, he began a slow trek along the fine edge of the old wood, and attended to his options.

anyone welcome, tags are for visibility.

Her life sucked. 

It sucked so bad she wondered what she'd do with it now. She'd lost her way but hadn't shaken the Morrigan. She knew the Tigeress would probably come for her again soon but, for now, she could relax here. In this new world. 

She trotted through the forest, a blotch in the spring growth. She liked it here, in the darkness and relative shelter. Rain and snow couldn't enter, the wind was lost amongst the bodies. Peaceful. It had food she could smell the deer, see the evidence all around. She wanted this to be her home.
She moved outwards, moving parallel to the treeline. Testing to see how sheltered it was. A lean figure of earthen colours moved alongside her path, separated by the permeable wall. She watched on, keeping her pace to his before sidling closer. She didn't bother masking her steps -- she subtly wanted to be known. She sidled closer, weaving betwixt the trees until there was only a thin row separating them. 

Perhaps if she got on good terms she could rebuild what was taken from her. Then if the Morrigan did come for her, the witch would beat her into the ground.

For all it was comprised of, the forest seemed almost void of life. At least life of the canine variety for the time being, barring the obvious presence he made there. There may have been a few tracks here and there in the mud but the paths he wove were far from well trodden; it was easy here, to sink and blend in and beneath the sheer volume of woodland, to disappear.

However, it was just as easy for those to emerge.

He became aware of her at some point, first in the form of scattering brush. These sounds were not out of the ordinary for Dirge who knew them both to be friendly and warning at the same time. No, it was the flicker of darkness between and otherwise drab palette that clamped his attention down. He thought it Hydra then, having followed him and today desiring to be more pit viper lying in wait. He ignored the apparition of her, and then she came closer.

That darkness he perceived on his peripheral was not Hydra at all, but rather another. A glimmer of seal brown rather than a cobalt and though an inky smudge to a picturesque early spring, he soon found himself peering into the woods to find her ghastly visage. How he had never quite noticed the punch of white was beyond him, but it did not halt his steps all the same.

She had walked this length with him long enough, and he suspected she'd continue.

"Hello there," he offered, words rolling nonchalant, "do you often make it a habit to follow complete strangers? I hear some don't take kindly to their fans." As it were, he had shed his usual entourage.

She, too, stopped when he did after being noticed. She turned to face him, closing the gap so there were only a few paces between them. It may be intrusive for a sensitive wolf, but her posture said she wasn't trying to take the males space, only merge the pairs. 

She chuckled softly, her accent tipping her voice with a rich trill. "Hello there." She crooned in the common tongue. The words felt thick and cumbersome on her tongue. Disgusting.  "As a matter of fact, I do." She teased with a grin, flicking an ear back then forward again. She took a delicate step closer, extending her nose gently like a dainty doe. She was anything but.

He smelt of pack. He was alone. Had he just left? Or was he out for a run. "Where do your travels take you, Sir?" She asked, retracting her nose. It'd do her good to get with someone quickly. A guard. A lupine shield from the Morrigan. Of course, she'd fight the heinous bitch but it wouldn't hurt to weaken her first. Why should she be the only one to get her paws dirty?

He admired her boldness. It was the sort of thing that blurred lines of many sorts, be they irksome or charming or something of a different caliber altogether. Disarming, perhaps, though he certainly knew better. It was the sort of ploy that he used himself and in turn anticipated from others. No one simply came running up and with a total stranger—not unless they wanted something. Often, at least in his experiences here, these were harmless encounters.

"Wherever I end up, of course," he answered with a thin smile. "Often the best sort of ventures are the ones with no destination in mind." It had been such things that had drawn him into this little microcosm in the first place, though the original plot to his story had only been to go as far as possible from the only home he had ever known.

A wandering gaze took in the sight of her all the same, quiet notes taken of the nuances that set her apart, and he wondered aloud: "And what of yours, hm? You seemed as well traveled as I." She may have had more of the wilderness to cling to her than him, but there was always a tell, some universal awareness that ilk recognized ilk. The roads were vast and numerous and hardly led to the same place, but their paths crossed all the same.

She barked with soft laughter. She glanced away, ensuring they were alone. Always on edge. "Indeed they are. Though no one can be sure of the effects of such outing." She herself knew to wander alone often led to bad things, be it anything from bear attacks to children. From new territories to alliances. Good and bad, she supposed.

So, he'd picked up on her distant roots. The lands of Mexico served her very well, and one day endeavored to return. Yet could she? Perhaps if she built an army, yes. It'd have to be a mighty army to defeat the war clan that had captured her lands. "I come from far south. I escaped war and I am now hunted." She gave him a frank tilt of her crown, a half-assed smirk. She decided she could enjoy the short-lived company of this man.

He too, had come from the south. Perhaps not the far south, but it certainly felt that way. He had come from the divide between the alpine forests and the warm sands—how unusual it was to find someone else who may have recalled such a thing. But if her accent was anything to place, it was indeed truth that she had come from much further away than he ever had. Dirge had no intentions of ever returning to the south, however much he missed a more stable climate. He too, knew what it was to be hunted, but would never loosen his tongue enough to reveal.

”I suppose that is the risk we take in wandering,” he rejoined. ”Though I can't claim to have wandered into a war and back out again. I generally take pains to avoid such nonsense,” and there were many more pains he went to in staying out of it all. Hydra was perhaps the only real connection he had to anything now, and even then it wavered at times. ”But it is a shame they would think to pursue a lady so far. The road is long and unforgiving to here; perhaps the lingering cold have taken care of them.” It could have done the same to either of them, yet it had not.

She raised a brow with a chuckle. It would be foolish of her to think the Morrigan to have been stopped by the snows. Vanity was lucky enough to get through the ravine and out before it completely closed up. The progress of her pursuer would be hindered, sure, but not stopped. Nothing could possibly stop the crazy bitch. "It would be stupid of me to think so." He gave the man a twisted smile: stuck between pain and amusement.

"I come from a war clan. It's in my blood." Her dark countenance became a shade darker but her ruby gaze still shone out. She was glad she'd learnt the common tongue, for once. She'd never had to use it before and every word felt like tar, lead on her tongue. But it worked and it was what was needed. "What of you, hm? Pack wolf?" The curious glint returned to her gaze, watching for a reaction to unravel this man.

His words seemed to offer her little in the way of comfort, but they were just that. Words. It was a fool's errand to believe that they all could escape whatever troubles may have followed them, whether it manifested physically or otherwise. His had been simple enough to get away from, sure, but he had paid for it down the line just as well. Perhaps even now, he would continue to pay for it, a pawn on the table of some cosmic chessboard unknowing what it all meant, or where the next play would take him.

But he could at least be thankful that it was not war that ran in his history, at least not the sort he presumed she referenced. Her physique may have even gone as far as to betray that, but he also knew better than to make any sort of assumption—it was the fleeing wolf with no options left that proved most dangerous of all. She had her health, and from the look of things, all her teeth.

”When it suits me,” he replied with a thin smile. ”Winter does not favor the bold here, especially those on their own. I like surviving, so joining up seemed a fair thing to do. Do my part and I get a bit of the spoils and warmth too.” And thankfully, neither Charon nor Hydra had taken his head off for coming and going when he pleased, but he came back. He had come back now more times than he counted or thought to remember, even when the siren song of the wilderness was so clear.

He'd blame the season for it, later.

”Is that what you intend to keep doing out here—surviving? Continuing your escape and all. That's risky business on your own, even with the turn of the season. Nature still likes to try and smother the green with one last snow, and then before we know it the river basin's swollen once again. Makes for interesting travel to say the least.” He did not hide that he knew about the path ahead and in his own way, extended the offer to share.

She laughed softly, almost hesitantly. She missed pack life, the security. In her life, they shared dens and one was never alone. A family ran through loyalty. And she was their Queen.
She doubted she'd ever get those days back. Not that she deserved it, whilst her pack was captured and slaughtered, the remains hunted like her.
She swallowed. "I suppose that makes you wise then." She offered a teasing hint of a smirk. Her eyes did most of the talking. Bright and gleaming, she enjoyed the company of the other.

She nodded slowly, "Yes. I doubt a pack would like my troubles brought to their front door." She blinked slowly, pursing her lips. It was the truth, well, half of it. She didn't want another pack. The closeness to a family. She wouldn't be able to bear it, especially if she were an outsider. "The road I have traveled has wisened me greater to the dangers this land holds. I'm sure I can hold my own." She let a trickle of laughter leave her lips in an attempt to seem unbothered. She hadn't spoken to anyone for a while, let alone speak about emotions. It wasn't something others needed to know about, she thought. 
"I'm Vanity Valadez ​of Cerro Picacho del Diablo​." This time she gave the man a grin, not expecting him to have an inkling of what she was on about.

She may have tried to play it off as though she were unbothered, but he couldn't help but imagine that she spoke of her precarious situation as a means of searching for help. But the fact that she didn't want to trouble a pack with her situation seemed noble enough, however foolish it may have been. There was something about safety in numbers, but he couldn't quite contest it; he had spent his fair share of travels alone. Of course, coming from a place that boasted Diablo in it's name should not have surprised him for being war torn—instead it made more sense.

”I'm Dirge,” he offered in exchange. He had no boast about where he came from, though Moonspear had seemingly reined him in. But it seemed irrelevant when his focus was elsewhere. ”I can't claim to know much of your tongue, but diablo, that's devil, right?” The other words he guessed to refer to the territory, which obviously belonged to the devil. Presumably.

She smiled wistfully, casting a gaze away. Always watching her back. 
The Mountain of the Devil, or some called it Cerro de la Encantada​, though those who did were very old or came from far away lands on whims of a tale. Some looked for rejuvenation and health. Some eternal life. Vanity had given some of those pained enough that and remembered those lost in her clan and those who came seeking help in a festival. 

"You are correct, Sir. You know more than most. It means Hill of the Devil." She grinned fiendishly as if to prove the effects of her wild and untamed heritage.

"My land laid at the foot of a great peak. For two days before the Winter, we trek up it to celebrate the dead. But we also give life at the top so those who don't make it through the process are not lost in finding relatives who lived long." She smiled fondly, shaking her head as if shaking the memory of those nights away.

Her kingdom, taken and defiled. 
Not to be seen again.

He knew more than most? Well, that was certainly new. It didn't quite go to his head, though the smile that he returned was certainly knavish enough. It soon faded as she spoke of pilgrimage and ceremony, both something he was not at all familiar with. Though strange, he understood the principles of tradition and found that they too applied here in their own little ways, however modified they may have been.

”Interesting,” he commented. ”I don't think there are many here who have such traditions, but then again you and I are far from where we started.” Even his natal pack had their own little quirks, but nothing like that. The similarity ended at being somewhat nomadic, the following of herds over hillock, desert, and forest where the mountain and its rain shadow collided. She had piqued his interest now and he wondered more of her home.

He pressed ahead: ”But why the war? Lack of resources? Suitable territory?” Reasons to fight were vast and numerous, this too he knew. They were brutal, social creatures, and the grudges could run so, so very deep.

The Hispanic woman nodded, licking her lips. She'd grieved on the journey and had no tears left to cry. 
"Perhaps if -- when -- I establish myself here I shall reignite the tradition. It will never be the same, but it'll feel normal." Feel like she hadn't lost her ancestors or their graves she'd looked after for so long. 

Her lips pursed, her gaze narrowing slightly. She didn't like those who pressed too much but supposed this one was just curious. She could teach him. "It was my fault. I wanted to expand my territory, my pack. We were formidable. I pursued the wrong territory and the pack and their allies joined together. I was largely betrayed..." She paused, flushing the hot rise of anger that rose at the memory. She'd done everything to care for her pack. Her Family. "My kingdom fell under the pressure." 
The woman fell quiet. Shuffling around to exert some of the energy that had built up. She needed to release that tension. She'd never return, not out of fear. No. She'd've stayed until her last breath defending that mountain. She left because she knew it was time to go. The prophets had told her, the winds had sung it to her. She was going to leave before the battle but seemed being pursued would give her a reason. Those who may hold on to the hope of her returning a reason to keep living.

Creature comforts, something they all craved. He thought it a shame in a way that he had not met her ages ago when he had been trying to form his own claim in these very familiar reaches. Another like-minded individual with the same fire would have surely thrust his goals forward but by the present he had locked his jaws around yet another sliver of something more. It was easy to attribute it to the season and he did on some personal level, ever consumed by a distraction in equal parts passion and poison.

He had long stopped dwelling on past and on future, and simply embraced the present.

"That is unfortunate," he said as her voice drifted; it couldn't have been so easy to share such a trivia piece with a stranger. But she had shown her hand in a way, her intentions laid bare for the briefest of moments. She desired a claim of her own, to carry on those traditions. To rise up and defend herself, lest she, crown and kingdom fall again.

"It really isn't my place to extend such offers, but if you were looking for somewhere to gather yourself and get your bearings, I'd imagine the pack I'm from has room. Not like we're exactly overflowing with kin but they've been tolerant of my own comings and goings through the seasons." He realized that it sounded like pity, and sought to correct it. "Of course I can't say that they'd appreciate the notion of trouble potentially coming to their doorstep, but it isn't like they're unfamiliar with it. It helps to have allies, nevertheless."

His shoulders rolled loosely into that of a shrug.

"Food for thought, anyway."

It was an offer. Laid bare in an offhand way. To Vanity, he didn't mean it. It was an offer for an ally, or a to protect the pretty girl in the woods.
She almost snorted -- would've if it wasn't seen as rude.

"Perhaps one day." She started slow, thinking through. "If my plans fail, I suppose I'll take up on your offer. Likewise, if you ever need a home you can come to me should my plans of a pack here not fail. I will accept you Dirge, you seem a true character." 
She hadn't missed he didn't like being grounded. He liked pack life, but not the sedentary one. A mover, a go-getter. If he came to join her pack, she'd accept the fact that he'd need freedom.
Anything to have a strong pack -- in moral, numbers and loyalty.

She cast her gaze away. North. A call caught on the wind? No... they weren't here. The sisters made it here too? The lullaby voice of Vyn calling for Val drifted softly. Barely a whisper. She turned her attention back to Dirge, offering him a soft smile that seemed almost apologetic. 
"I believe I have an acquaintance here. I shall see you around Dirge." She gave him a flirtatious smirk before starting off in a trot -- of course swinging her hips in her usual, self-assured fashion.
She knew Valkyr loved it. Made excuses to walk behind her often enough.

Yes, perhaps one day, he thought.

And then he watched her go, pulled away by such distant calls that they had almost not registered to him as being of any concerned. He lingered there for a time, giving her the ample distance to make that getaway to whatever hope lied out there, and then he followed in her wake. Not necessarily to follow her, to be so nosy or play the trope of knight in armor, but to resume his own ventures along the wooded trails. Whether or not their paths would cross again he didn't know, but he found himself amused with their parting exchange all the same.

He presumed that he must have charmed here, at least a little bit, to be given such an offer. It may not have been unlike how he had charmed Hydra in those very woods an age ago, but allies were simply allies. As much as he operated without them he utilized them in the same way, and he found himself hoping their paths would eventually cross again someday. By that thought and the time, he had begun to circle back around towards the mountains, and decided to linger closer to them.

thanks for the thread! :)