Wapun Meadow waiting in my room, and i lock the door
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astara woke to merrick gone, off to some unknown haunt. she worried little, though the coldness left by his departure was keenly felt. they were bound together now by blood, augmented by killing; he would return, for who else was there to receive him?  

the blackbird had not partaken in the crude ceremony of indra’s disposal. her hunger had taken her across the snowbound landscape, where she stretched on lithe limbs eager to run.  

 the scent of vole rose to her muzzle, inviting her to a soft mound where thin sheaves of grass scarcely poked through. astara paused at the entrace of a slender tunnel bored through the snow; here she waited poised over shadowed mouth, jaws ready.

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Ibis had thought about returning to Lost Creek Hollow to pay a visit to her father, to find out if he fared well, maybe even to tell him about Elysium's dissolving and the absence of her mothers. She opted not to, though. It felt like she was going to confront a tragedy again, as she had felt when she had learned of Lily's passing; but this time it wasn't the death of someone close that would have driven her, weeping, to her father—it was the loss of her first remembered home and the family built there. It felt too intimate to share with Terance, especially since Ibis did not feel comfortable around his replacement mate, so she turned around and moved south.

As she roamed she spotted a herd of fast-moving elk; there were so many that she had to stop and gawk at them for a few moments, watching their dark crowns shifting over a sea of bodies. Puffs of smoke rose from their hooves and drifted around the entirety of the masses, and she held herself as far back as she could while still spying upon their distant combined shape. They were moving very quickly away from the mountains and deeper south, and her brow knit as she stared after them.

When the last of their galloping faded to white-noise, then silence, she headed north again. Maybe she would check in with Easthollow a second time, or—there. Ibis was busy thinking of her next move when the scent of wolf crossed before her, and she looked around the meadow where she now found herself, curious of the scent. It didn't smell familiar and it wasn't layered to the extent of an Easthollow wolf; Ibis thought of Julien then, and the Diaspora wolves she had yet to discover. Was this one of them?

Poor, innocent little Ibis—she was on the trail of the young Astara and did not know the danger.
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swift were the hungering jaws that closed in on a light pink nose — the vole never knew of its ending, only the shadow that came to pass over it. 


holding the limp token of her efforts, astara turned — for along the tree line she heard the light tread of another. 

a pale dove roaned by soft grey and ash appeared, following what seemed to be a scent. perhaps astara’s, perhaps someone else’s. the blackbird settled her cold gaze on the stranger in studious interest, vole dangling from a hooked tooth.

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To say that Ibis was a poor hunter wasn't entirely accurate, but one could imagine that the soft girl was not suited for such activities. She could catch mice sometimes, or birds when they were available, but often she would rely on her brother for sustenance. Ever since the earth had begun to shake she had been finding it harder and harder to find meals, and had settled in to a new habit of seeking small morsels to make life easier on the pair of them. Okeanos could take down larger things—but as she had already spied, the large game was on its way off to safer pastures.

She did notice the scent of vole all around herself, and was briefly distracted by it, until she found another patch of scent that was wolf, and paused to look around. When she lifted her head her eyes caught upon the stranger's young, jagged figure. She noticed the tucked belly, the nearly perfect black of the coat—and those glowering eyes, the color of a dying sunset. From a set of too-dark jaws hung one such tiny morsel and Ibis' belly groaned softly, but she ignored this. It was impolite.

Oh, hello! Called the girl jovially, ignoring the vague sense of unease that had begun creeping like a spider along her spine. She smiled, waved her tail, and drifted closer, but showed little interest in the vole aside from a little glance at it—but then away, as Ibis wondered, could I do that too? Perhaps the meadow was bountiful enough for the pair of them.
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in the girl’s flickering gaze astara saw one instinct, and one she knew well: Hunger. 

she decided then a game might be fun. the pearl-furred stranger might not know of her participation in such pursuits, but give it time —

astara’s dark plume wagged behind her, disarming. nimbly she jerked her muzzle skyward, sending the vole in a bizarre cartwheel across the air. a sudden quiet came over astara as the vole landed near ibis’ feet in a haggard heap of grey.

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Ibis, being a trusting sort, did not heed the inkling in the back of her mind. That instinct telling her to turn around, go back to where she came from—the tiny voice telling her, 'this isn't right,' because she had never employed such a self awareness before; she had others to protect her, always. Okeanos probably wasn't far from her even now, and so she did not think to suspect anything out of the ordinary with this girl.

In fact, she found herself drawn to watching her. The hawkish look in her eyes was one thing—but the deep darkness of her coal-colored coat intrigued her, being more of an artist than anything. Ibis thought that the trim manner of the girl's proportions was quite appealing. She wondered, fleetingly as always, if Okeanos had once looked this slim and dark; there was a beauty to it.

And then, suddenly, there was something flying through the air. The girl had lifted her chin and sent the vole tumbling, and it landed abruptly near Ibis. The sound of it landing against the grass startled her from her study of the girl's figure, and she turned her attention to the bloodied mass of fur with some interest. Thinking it was a gift offered to her, she was positively elated—and with a smile upon her face, moved to picked it up with a ginger tugging of her teeth.
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the vole raced through the air, an offering of good faith given by the shadow. as ibis glanced upon her astara procured a thin smile, too clinical and swiftly summoned to be genuine. 

astara watched the processing that flitted across ibis’ gaze as she made sense of astara’s gift. a solemnity overtook the wraith as she watched, for in eyes astara had discovered a rippling language that few spoke and even fewer mastered. in that lexicon she saw all manner of feeling, emotion — her form hunched as ibis bent forward, the inviting line of her slim and smoke-dusted neck visible...

with a silent lurch forward,  the blackbird lunged — teeth primed for delicate dove.

yet if she hit her mark it mattered little, for it was not in blood that astara measured her wholeness. she sought another, far more elusive currency — the emotions distilled within her quarry’s eyes. 

with something akin to a crow’s grating laugh, the wraith snatched the vole and pulled away. her eyes remained focused to ibis’ own, a cruel sneer playing her features.

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I rolled a D15 for possible wounds recieved and got a 10, oops.


As her own fangs set in to the vole, softly, tenderly so as not to break the skin or harm the morsel, she felt a pinch on her neck. The pinch flared with sharp pain and she tugged back from the sensation, releasing the vole and staggering away from the pressure of that presence, that pain, wounded beyond the physical—for nobody had ever struck her in such a way before. The dark girl's eyes flashed in Ibis' periphery as she slid from her grasp of Ibis' neck down to where the vole sat unattended, and while Ibis recoiled and sagged back in the grass, she watched as the gift was stolen back.

She was utterly stunned. The continued warmth along the junction of her neck-to-body was dimly felt, but the pale dove was shocked by the behavior. She didn't realize that the bruising blow had been more than that: a nip, expertly placed, having scored her flesh and caused a wound. The warmth did not dissipate and when Ibis shifted her head to cast a pained look towards the dark girl, she felt the sharpness of the cut and let out a small note of concern.
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a flare of shock welled in ibis’ gaze — followed by tender notes of pain. astara tittered to herself as she sauntered off, the vole held like a prize in her jaws.  

a constellation of emotions she had seen in ibis’ softly liquid eyes — remote, fleeting. 

she wished to see them stir again.

rounding the pained form of the little dove, astara thrust her jaws towards ibis once more — the vole dancing obscenely from her teeth, just as malice danced within her indigo gaze. come play her gestures invited, as meanwhile she skulked about her quarry with toying amusement.

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This was not a game she was versed in, and Ibis certainly did not want to play. So when the dark figure made motions as if to skulk off, she found herself gladdened by the sight. Before long though, she was rounding back to where Ibis sat waiting, leaking, taking the time to brandish the vole before her. A smug little offering—a falsehood.

Ibis' innocence had been tested during this exchange. She chose to view the bite as an accident, chose to give the dark girl the benefit of the doubt—maybe it hadn't been on purpose, maybe she merely meant to be foolish and had not judged the distance correctly? Accidents did happen. 

The vole, she glanced at. Then to those eyes—dark and shining, unreadable to Ibis—and she stood up, made motion as if to seek the vole out for herself again; this time she was more cautious and the slow drift of her muzzle towards the dead thing looked more choreographed; she did not want to remove her gaze from the dark girl, finally heeding that tiny voice of reason she had so far under-utilized.
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it seemed her playmate possessed too trusting a temperament; or at least, that was astara’s view as she watched the girl’s expression morph from bewilderment and agony to something akin to cooperative trepidation. 

the blackbird smirked, and yanked her head (and prize) away. it would have been easy — too easy, in fact — to repay ibis’ faith in her with fangs instead, but astara had other designs. 

watchful as she drew around ibis’ flank, astara dropped the vole. her thin muzzle skimmed along the snow as she coursed new scents from within, all the while leaving ibis to collect the corpse if she so wished.

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The dark girl roamed around her, seemingly disinterested in the vole and more curious of the snow.

Ibis didn't know if this was part of another trick, or a layer to the game, but she was too trusting and too hungry to worry long. Her gaze slipped from Astara for a few moments as she sought the vole, scooping it up in between her teeth with the same care as before—hasty, though, in case something were to happen.

Her neck ached where the other girl had scored her flesh but the bleeding had slowed, leaving a small trail of red in the slush beside Ibis. The pale girl lifted the vole away from the dirt, pinching it's back so the tiny legs splayed out and the head hung limply by her cheek.
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only once did astara look behind her, to see again that stupefied expression; that grappling with an inane reality that astara had presented. 

cue another smile, no warmer than the first. 

astara’s slim muzzle cut through the snow, a thin gouge left in her wake. she listened intently to the chittering beneath her, measuring — mapping. a few moments of quiet pause and the dark wolf plunged beneath the snow, resurfacing this time with a squealing shrew. 

with a crunch astara ended its protests, her breath exhaling in a violent misty plume. this token too was flung towards the stranger. eat, the girl’s expression seemed to command — a grotesque titter pressing from her lips.

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the wilds had been no easier on them this year as it had been last. terance had lived through a famine, a strange plague of collars -- and now, it seemed, that the end of the world was upon them. the quakes felt like they would never end, and were so unpredictable terance was afraid that at any second a god damn tree would fall on top of the pack. the prey was growing scarcer -- or at least moving to less... dangerous places. and so he took to outside the borders to find food to feed his family. terance followed after the scent of deer, but it seemed it dissipated before he could fully track it. he was merely on the hunt now, but on the verge of turning back to the hollow.

the tell tale signs of a fight -- or at least some sort of scuffle -- were in the air. terance heard the yips and the growls and then a strange silence. as he glanced across the clearing he spotted two wolves, a pale one and one as dark as the cerberus. the smell of blood, too. he would've minded his own business and avoided it had he not recognized the scents that drifted past him... instead sending him full force into the scene. the scent and the realization that the pale dove was his pale dove. never mind what kind of drama this could cause, terance felt the pounding of his blood in his veins as he raced forward.

it was likely that the two wolves saw him before he approached. terance wasn't really reading the room beyond the blood and the body language. he ignored the vole, hackles raised, slowing as he approached only to step in front of ibis. his green gaze held steady on the dark girl, teeth bared, ears back, snarling. it was a warning, but terance said nothing.
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With a slight toss, the vole was left without any mooring, then Ibis caught it and began to work it to pulp. Warmish juices exploded on her tongue, warming her throat and filling her belly with a satisfying flavor which meant life, and she was ultimately thankful that she had come across this dark girl. The girl did not take long to chew apart the tiny rodent, and licked her lips clean afterwards—in time for something new to be thrown her way.

The shrew was observed with more scrutiny. The first time she'd gone for the offered vole she'd been bitten after all, and Ibis wasn't about to be fooled twice, even if she was a forgiving sort of creature. Her trust was still strong; she believed that everyone was innately good, and that the forceful snap of the dark girl's teeth had been an accident; some form of zeal brought on by her game. So she stalked towards the freshly killed shrew and dipped her nose towards it, careful, not willing to let her doubts win.

As Ibis moved to pick up the dead thing she was startled by the crunching snow alongside her—a figure moving at a run towards the two girls, which set Ibis on-edge and caused her to look sharply to Astara; what trick is this? Her eyes said, highlighted by her uncertainty. She knew that shape, that gait, that face—Dad..? gasped Ibis as she recognized the burly man, though she stepped aside from him as he came to rest between them.
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the vole was short work for the dove, who much like astara, was lean from summer strife. the shrew ibis only tentatively approached; astara’s eyes danced and a ghost of a smile lingered. 

she readied herself to pounce, this time not for neck but flank — all it would take would be ibis’s subverted attention, and once more astara would dole out pain without scrutiny; once more that laughter would ring the snowdecked hills —

only, a new figure came quickly, his tread heard well before he was seen. astara watched reproachfully, her tail held stiffly behind her. she had enough sense to run if the interloper proved aggressive, but she wished to see this play out before her — for she had recognized a semblance of recognition in her plaything’s voice that did not bode well of future astara-games.

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ibis' instant recognition did something to soothe the giant, but it didn't do much to sooth the anger that boiled within him. did she hurt you? asked terance between growls, eyes still locked on the black wolf before him. he knew the answer -- he smelled the blood -- but he'd give the stranger the benefit of the doubt before he lunged to tear into her flesh. 

as much as ibis' naivety came from her mother, terance had always been known for trusting easily. granted, this situation might've been a bit different. his tail arched, now, and he took a step towards the little black wolf, who looked displeased, but not enough so that she was leaving.
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Ibis' attention left the shrew where it lay, lingering on the familiar contours of her father's rugged face. Her heart thumped with love and longing, and her limbs tensed, wanting to move closer and to smother herself in his dark coat—but she resisted this childish, infantalizing desire. She watched him, listened to his guarded voice and observed the manner in which he had come to her protection, so much like Okeanos... And his question caused Ibis to glance briefly to the dark girl and back.

N-no, well.. It wasn't on purpose, her voice lilted as she looked to Astara again, sounding more like a question than a certainty. She saw the dim light in the girl's dark eyes and wondered... But then she said, What are you doing here? And side-stepped to be a little closer to Terance, making sure his bulk was between her aching neck and the spidery girl in the snow.
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ibis abandoned the shrew in favor of the dark male. astara snatched the tormented thing's body, and watched like a feral underling as the duo exchanged quiet conversation. the man, scarred more even than merrick, struck no note of love in astara -- she could detect protectiveness issuing forth from him, and disliked the way he looked pointedly to her as if she was in the wrong.

bristling, the girl settled the shrew between her paws and sat a distance away -- watching, lurking. she blinked once, almost owlishly, as they conversed among themselves -- and wished for the interloper to leave, so that she might resume her torment feigning as a game.

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not on purpose? terance found that hard to believe... he knew better than to argue but felt his protectiveness for her blocking that judgement. she drew blood, he said, not arguing but pointing out that blood wasn't typically an accident. he was still staring at the dark wolf as she began to retreat... but only barely. terance watched as she settled a distance away, his growls pausing but body language still on guard. prey is scarce, we've been having to go further from the hollow to find food, he then explained, gaze still set on the stranger. he wouldn't look away for a second... he didn't trust the feeling that she was giving him. 

are you okay? he asked, giving her a quick glance before looking back towards the stranger.
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When he pointed out, She drew blood, Ibis' face contorted in a small frown and she looked away from her father, eyeing the dark girl who now sat glowering from a sphinx-pose, clutching the shrew. Ibis did not want to give in to the uneasy feeling the girl gave her, but her father was probably right—she had either been playing too rough, or it had been intentional harm, which didn't make sense to her at all. Nobody had ever harmed her like this before, and she could not fathom any reason anyone would lash out in such a way. Had she done something to displease the girl? Had she made a mistake in assuming the vole was a gift, thus earning some retrobution? Of course, in classic Ibis fashion, she thought it was her own fault.

Are you okay? Terance said with a small look, evidently not wanting to disregard Astara for long. He must have been quite busy with hunting if he was this far from the Hollow, Ibis reasoned. Here she was, causing more worry that necessary, distracting her father from important work for his pack.

I'm fine, she replied sharply, not meaning to let her emotions spoil the moment—but she couldn't help the edge to her voice, the hurt she was still suffering through on account of Elysium's ending. The thought of home, and of her mothers, makes Ibis open her mouth to say something else, maybe to tell him about how the pack has dissolved—but she can't quite find the words. Instead she looks to the dark girl and comments to her father, I don't think she talks. I tried to say hello, but... Then we were playing a game.

Was the game over? It felt like it.
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never once did the stranger lift his attention from astara for long. she answered in her own fashion with a cold glare. her game ended, she had little purpose to remain — particularly not when it seemed the heavily scarred hunter was ready to enforce his own brand of protection. 

astara caught the flash of ibis’ gaze, noticing the concerned confusion within. how she wished the dark protector had not arrived! the game had only just become fun..

with a snort the blackbird plucked the shrew from the ground, kicked up snow and dirt behind her, and then turned to leave. her time here was running short, and she did not wish to measure herself up against the male that now stood guard over the little dove astara had enjoyed taunting.

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terance made no note of the sharp tone of her voice, deciding quickly that he didn't really care if his involvement upset her. maybe she was too naive to read a room... but he wasn't. a game -- he inwardly sighed. and without speaking? he wasn't convinced.

a low growl rumbled again from terance's throat as the crow kicked up snow at him... but he remained firmly planted before his daughter. he watched as she left, turning now to look fully at ibis. his gaze softened upon her, searching her features. he wanted to scold her for being so stupid -- but it was just so nice to see her pretty little face again. oh zues, he muttered gently through a breath, i'm so glad to see you -- where's okeanos?
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Had she been aware of how poor his opinion was of his daughter, she'd probably have turned around right there and left, but, whatever. She wasn't a mind reader, although the tone of his voice and his mention of Okeanos made astute little Ibis shrug her shoulders; everyone always asked about her brother, her big, strong, soft brother. How often did they ask about her? Care about what sort of things she got up to? Did she need protecting that badly --? The wound on her neck stung, throbbing softly, as if to answer her own unspoken question.

He's around, she commented. We found his friend, and then I wanted to travel, so he caught up with me here. That wasn't the whole story but did her father care about the loss of Lily, or the fact that Elysium was gone? Would he care about all the places she'd been and friends she'd made? Ibis opted not to tell him; he seemed distracted by her silent friend anyway, and with a glance to the dark girl Ibis focused her attention upon her too.

What's your name? She calls, stepping away from Terance's shadow in the hope that, with some distance, she can coax her friend back over.
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astara had nearly slipped off before a call behind her came — turning an angled muzzle over slender shoulder astara briefly met ibis’ searching gaze. 

that was all there was in rejoinder — had astara even the faculties to speak, it was unlikely she’d expose herself so easily. instead she simply shrugged those thin shoulders, turned back around, and continued to put distance between herself and the girl’s would-be dark knight. 

an ear was folded back, listening for any evidence ibis followed — but astara was in this moment firmly invested in escaping before terance’s teeth found her.

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