Haunted Wood come away to the water

It was hard to fathom just how long he had been down there – trapped in the tunnels. The others seemed to have accepted their fate and grown used to the dark holes that had been made into homes. Brom could never. All the while that he existed beneath the earth, he dreamed of the heavens above. Purgatory had not been everything that had been promised to him, but then he knew that he should not have imagined it as anything more than what it had been. For all of the time that he had spent there, he imagined that he would have felt older than he did. Years had passed, after all. He was no longer the spry-limbed beast of his youth. Still, he had won his freedom by shedding the last of his flaws…
 
Or, that was what he believed to be true.
 
The hallow creature moved through the wood slowly. Brom’s gait could have been mistaken for a hunter’s prowl were it not for the noise that he willingly made. After having spent so much time with the others who had been condemned with him, the swarthy wolf had not imagined that he would have faced the light of day again. There was a loneliness to the world above. The tunnels, while frightening in their own sense, had been comfortable and lived in. Brom was uncertain of his freedom. The further that he prowled through the woods, the more he had started to believe that it all could have been a dream. The thought of waking up to the scent of earth and moist air was enough to halt him in his tracks.
 
Brom turned his head to the north and breathed in the scent of rain. It had been so long since he had tasted the air fresh with raindrops. Surely, that could not have been a dream.

Rain was coming, and Orson relished the smell of it in the air. Less so when it was finally coming down and drenching her, chilling the air and subsequently her body. She tried to avoid it as much as she could, hurrying across the flatlands to the dense forest she could see in the south.

As much as she loved exploring new lands, she liked knowing things more. So this feeling of being lost, a stranger in a strange land, made her extremely uncomfortable, though she was wont to express it. Not that she really had anyone to express to at the moment.

And that was another thing that she resented at the moment. Loneliness. While she had spent a good half of her life as a lone wolf, it didn't necessarily mean that she liked it. She was social by nature and by design and longed for some kind of company. Even if it was someone who was a total dick.

But, for the moment, there was no one. She panted as she finally reached the Woods, noting the oppressiveness of its canopy as she entered. Good. It'd keep most of the rain off.

Had it not been for his heightened sense of smell, Brom would have missed the presence of another in the wood. Instead, the wind seemed to align with his position for just a moment – just long enough for him to catch the scent of her. His dark legs froze in their place and he turned his head sharply in the direction of the wind’s origin. There was a shape in the distance, but not quite close enough for him to make it out. Brom breathed deeply, wondering if any of the others had escaped the tunnels too. Part of him hoped that they would follow him out there to seek their true freedom, but he knew that it was a fool’s hope… and he was no fool. This stiff-legged stance held him in place for several long moments before he opted to swing wide and aim for an approach on the stranger.
 
The shadowy figure moved through the wood with ease for not having seen such sights in years. He had dreamed many times of it, but to live it was something that could not be so easily compared to nighttime fantasy. In the Spine, he had not even known the hours of the day or whether it was light, for the tunnels had always been dark. Were it not for the looming storm clouds that tumbled overhead, Brom would have likely shied away from traveling during the day. The brute was still not used to the glimmering light of the sun. Time would surely grant him the ability to adjust to his new life, but the haggard creature could hardly believe it to be true.
 
Yet, there he stood. Brom had closed a good majority of the distance that had stretched between them. He was concealed barely by the thick clump of brambles at the base of a large tree. His two-toned gaze was glued to the figure of the other wolf. The cursed hound did not know the customs of that land. He did not know how it was seen to approach without knowing another, and there was a good portion of him that was fearful of the discovery. He had learned to be a survivor and because of this, the shadow had found that he would not make it far by taking unnecessary risks. Still, it was breathtaking to see the figure of another wolf after so long with only the thralls of the Spine.
 
Brom chuffed softly to draw the attention of the stranger. He waited to see if the other would return the greeting, or if he would be doomed to pass through those lands as a ghost.

The wind would not be in her favor this time, so she was ignorant of the presence of another long enough for her to get comfortable. She stretched and sprawled out her limbs in front and behind her and yawned. Really, with or without people it was a sleepy kind of day. Maybe, she could take a nap...

But that had to wait. Someone was nearby. Orson grinned when she heard the chuff, long before she turned her head towards its owner. He was a large wolf, larger than her for sure, with dark black fur, absorbing most light and only reflecting at his shoulders. What really got to her was his eyes. One matched hers, but the other was pale green. She thought he was handsome immediately, but whether she liked him was another thing entirely. Hey there, Orson said. Her tail waved lazily, still uncertain of the man's intentions, but glad to have someone to talk to here.

Brom saw the smile stretch across her features, curling the dark line of her lips upward. It had been such a long time since he had last seen a woman’s smile. For a moment, he hungered to approach her – to drink in her scent and to know it – but he held his ground and waited until she had turned to face him. The stranger seemed to drink in his features for a long moment, measuring up how willing she might have been to speak with him. Brom had to force himself to refrain from the customary greeting of the Spine wolves. He gritted his teeth, jaw clenching, as he dipped his head to her. The motion was enough to display the lean muscle that existed beneath his pitch coat; he was a swift beast of the night. Drawing his crown back upward, Brom smirked to her in a devilish manner. The tip of a single ivory canine glistened from beneath his lip.
 
“Hey yourself,” the gruff rumble of his voice struck the air, ragged from lack of use. There was something charming about the peculiar confidence that existed within him. It seemed as though it hung to the tattered fringes of his humanity – clung only to the pieces of him that could not shed it. Along with this, he appeared weary and worn from the lengthy travel that he had likely taken to reach those lands. The fur along his neck and shoulders was tattered, standing in jagged spikes as though he had no control whether it rose or laid flat. Brom was still decidedly predator. A dangerous gleam existed behind the liquid colors of his gaze.
 
Motioning toward their surroundings, the dark tunnel-dweller canted his head to the woman. “Are you from these lands?” the inky creature inquired of her with a curious squint. The taste of the common tongue was bothersome to him. It felt so casual and distasteful against his mouth, but Brom was not a fool to believe that there would be any who would speak the language of his people. They were a rare breed on their own, but to have found a way to the world above and to walk upon the land beneath sky instead of earth was far more extraordinary. Brom did not wish to give himself away just yet.

Orson fancied herself as someone good at reading body language. It went beyond the more blatant expressions — the smiles and frowns and shifting eyes and hard stances, no, she thought that she was good at reading "microexpressions", giving her the air of a mind reader. So she analyzed every single movement of his body, his face especially, trying to pick apart the subtle twitch of his jaw — apprehension? — before it his lips curved into a smile. 

Cute, she thought after he spoke. He was a ragged being — ruffled fur and wild eyes, with a scoundrel-like air about his smile that was almost convincing. That hesitation beforehand, the unsure gritting of his teeth said a bit otherwise in Orson's eyes, but it was not uncommon. Everything was an act. 

Nae, She settled on her Scottish burr for the moment, unsure whether she should play around with her voice just yet. I just strolled in here a few days ago,. She moved closer to him, shrugging all the while. I suppose yer th' same?

There was an accent to her words. Brom narrowed his eyes at this but did not seem to delve further into any form of curiosity that might have sparked. His tattered ears rose to collect the remainder of her words. The dark tunneller did wonder many things about her after having heard that she was wandering. It was clear that she did not carry the scent of another on her pelt. She must have been alone, or far from any group that she might have originally trekked through the world with. The woman seemed confident in herself. The way that she carried her posture and regarded him spoke of her tenacity. Many of the taskmasters beneath the surface were like her. It was off-putting for a moment.
 
“Mmm, yes… strolled,” he echoed back to her with a solemn nod of his head. In truth, it had been a long time since the dark beast had strolled much of anywhere. He had always been a man of purpose and it was that purpose that drove him in all things – travelling included. To be without his reason for existence was a challenge; one that he would not share with her. There was little that he wished to speak on regarding the Spine.
 
“Have you happened upon any others?” Brom asked of her with a slight tilt of his head. He was curious to know what he could expect from the wilds there. It seemed a suitable place to settle down and claim, but he knew very little of what the outer world sought in their land. These were thoughts that he knew he would have to face sooner rather than later. Before long, he would struggle to find food on his own. Brom knew that he should have been looking for a pack of others to join, but he was not so certain that he would pledge himself so quickly.

She watched as his eyes narrowed, shrunk between his eyelids in a clearly suspicious expression, even as his ears rose. The accent. It was always that. She did not know where he came from, but it was a tried and true fact that most wolves were not familiar with every language and dialect under the sky. Even she could not claim such knowledge, but she knew more than most and flaunted that around as subtly and blatantly as she could. 

Aye, she nodded back. It's abit th' only way I get about anywhere. She grinned and demonstrating, ambling forward to cut the distance between them. 

Orson shook her head. Nae a body as a yet. That was disappointing, but there was wolf-scent here for certain, far more than this one dark stranger could claim to produce. How about ye? Anyone interestin' catch yer eye? She canted her head in a gesture that practically screamed her intentions. It was very forward of her to try and court upon first meeting, but being alone for such a long time made the extrovert desperate for any kind of attention.