Silverlight Terrace we're the beginning of the end

@Wraen

The steady beat of her paws against the earth is her only companion in the hazy evening air of the field. The quiet is a stark contrast from the chaos of recent days, and she finds herself reluctant to return to her little group despite the rapid dimming of the sky. She slows to a halt to watch the sun's descent, surveying the area briefly before she gives her attention fully to the sight. Still no sign of prey. Her heart drops, but she tries to ignore it.
The sunset is brilliant even behind the clouds, and for a moment it almost reminds her of Minrathous. The thought is bittersweet. She watches for several moments before she turns away from the sight, turning with a suddenly heavy heart to find the small group she travels with. As she turns, she feels an icy prickle over her pelt — the beginnings of a light rain. Almost as if the sky is crying to make up for her own stubborn refusal. She shakes the thought, chastising herself, and turns her thoughts to her companions.

Wraen had not been prepared to the sight at the coast and later thought it would have been wiser to turn back early. However, her practical side got the better of her. If she had come this far, why not move on? Why not see, if on the other side things were just as bad as everywhere else?

So by the time (what felt like an eternity to her) she reached the Silverlight terrace, her coat was windswept and ruffled, she wore a half-tired, half-annoyed expression and it took a while for her to adjust to the silence of the plateau. Ocean's loud roars had almost made her deaf. Smell of salt-water and rotting weeds might take longer to get dealt with. 

A stranger was a nice visual distraction in the world, where everything else was related to the chaos of the ocean-side. Wraen felt inclined to share her recent experience and was not very picky with whom, therefore once within the range of being heard, she spoke to the dappled she-wolf. "Good afternoon!" she said, not really knowing, which part of the day it was. The cloudy grey of autumn made it hard to follow the hours of the day.

The appearance of a stranger drags her from her thoughts, somewhere between wondering what @Eleni is doing and anticipating burrowing into @Aldric's thick fur when she returns. Slightly disappointed by the interruption, she halts and turns to greet the woman with a neutral expression nonetheless; perhaps the interaction will be worth her time in some way. She doesn't have the highest hopes for a conversation with one who so brazenly stops a stranger, but she reassures herself with a reminder that the world surprises her with each new day. It's enough to scrape together some mild interest, at least.
Hello, She greets, gaze sweeping briefly over the stranger's form. The woman is unremarkable save the faint scent of sea-salt, tired-looking and unkempt, but there is a flicker in her green eyes that reminds her of Maelia. Her chest tightens, and she finds herself softening just slightly, offering her next words with a touch more warmth: You smell of the ocean. What brings you inland?

Wraen did not expect to be addressed as a trespasser, but that moment of confusion quickly passed. After nearly a lifetime of being the one, who spoke to strangers and began all conversations with exactly the same question, she should not be surprized that someone else had taken the role now.

"The weather conditions there are positively wild," she told the stranger. "I use to go there to scavenge along the shores, but the hell that is going on there now is unbelievable," she added. "There have been recent earthquakes on our side of the valley - I wondered, whether it has been the same here as well. Do you know?" 

Her hopes are quickly realized as the stranger responds, and she finds herself too captivated by the idea of collecting more information about Zazikel's recent antics to mind how sudden and random it all seems. I can't imagine how all of this is affecting the coast. What is it like there? Her heart twists a little to imagine the possible destruction, mind still lingering on Minrathous and its golden shores. She glances briefly toward the mountains looming behind the woman before she speaks again, assuming the "our side of the valley" she'd mentioned is somewhere beyond. The earth has been shaking everywhere, it seems. I was far east of here when it started, past the mountain range there. She gestures briefly with her muzzle before glancing back to the woman with one last addition: Prey has been scarce as well.

"There are waves that seem as high as the cliffs, there are areas that have been flooded along the way, some decent forests have been turned into lakes with trees," Wraen recounted her recent experience. "Wind is particularly strong in the open areas - you can hardly walk there without the fear of being swept away and occasional rainfalls make everything worse," she had early on decided against using the shortcut that took along the shores, going a little more inland, but still keeping any eye on the ocean.

The news that the large game was just as scarce as in Tuktu Hinterlands made Wraen's face fall. So this master plot of the gods was affecting everyone. "Seems like the gods got bored and needed to play a game with the loyal subjects," she said, looked up at the sky and frowned. "So - you have been east - has the quakes caused any serious damage?"

They spoke with each other for a while and then went their separate ways.