Alpine Lake the birth of merlin

Beneath a drab and indifferent sunset -- crisscrossing the long shadowed boughs of murmuring evergreens -- Deviljho moved at a vigilant pace. She appeared partial to rooting out each snow-laden shrub and twiggy hedge she came across, but otherwise seemed uninterested in encountering some sort of crepuscular meal. She was hunting, yet not for prey, and as she squatted to leave her scent in the billowing open, it became clearer that she was on the lookout for company. Leaving traces of herself wherever the wind would beckon.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd been full, though this was the first instance in several weeks in which she wasn't starving. It made it easier to dedicate time unto sating her social famine; when the weeks before had been nothing but a strict adherence to the heady desires of her gullet. The pieces of her former self were returning -- bitterly and slow -- and armed with the knowledge that her parents were recently dead, her only brother likely sharing their fate, Deviljho knew that she had to find support elsewhere if she was going to ever have the life she had envisioned for herself.

She had intended to forge ahead with the search, but. . .hadn't. There simply wasn't enough game in these parts to keep her sated. Some sort of disaster had befallen this place; she saw the evidence in downed trees and shifted landscapes, and, of course, the dearth of prey. Without prey, she could not eat. Without sustenance, her steps were slower, more meandering.

But perhaps that was as well. What if Akuti was on the move as well, and they continued to pass each other? She may never find her mother if she didn't stay put for a little while, at least assess the situation for the time being. And eat— she needed desperately to eat.

The woman ahead was her opposite in coloring, a lanky pale female that wandered through the trees. Preeti chuffed in her direction, knowing two hunters were better than one. Fantasies of chasing down an ungulate drifted through her mind, and her stomach growled, her mouth watered. She padded toward the stranger, body language neutral and friendly and guilelessly questioning.

Deviljho first angled an ear towards the approach of another, then gave such an inconsiderable turn of her head that at first all she could discern of her company was that they were melanistic. She didn't want to seem too interested, and this ingrained sort of arrogance made her stop any forward motion but refuse to immediately give her full attention to the new arrival. Instead, she adopted a rather standoffish poise and glared stiffly from the corner of her eye; as if needing to broadcast that she was dangerous, perhaps unpredictable, and could decide at a moment's notice not to tolerate her presence any longer...

Though the sterling eidolon had been practically begging for an interaction, it might become apparant that she wasn't exactly particular on the type. Negative would do her just fine— and Deviljho didn't appear to be very pleasant herself. "Keep your distance, stranger," she croaked, remembering sullenly that it'd been weeks since she'd last spoken. Or had it been a scream?

Her tail lashed through the tension along her spine, and the she-wolf moved so that she could take in the other female with a full gaze. She took stock of her brilliant fur and catching eyes, and perhaps noticed something a little other about her features that made Deviljho's wide stare linger a little longer. "Who are you?"

Her brows furrowed at the request—no, command—and she drew to a halt several lengthy paces from where the other stood. She nodded in silent acknowledgement, then responded, Preeti. Who are you?

The other woman was rangy, lean, and her pelt smelled of nothing and no one discernible. A lone wolf, like herself. Preeti was still getting used to being on her own. Once, she could have introduced herself more thoroughly, with a home, a status. Now, she was just Preeti, just Preeti.

I kind of like that, she mused, cocking her head ever-so slightly as she waited for the stranger's reply.

As her words were respected without any visible repercussion, the she-wolf's stance became looser while allowing herself to blink. Preeti was a name that stuck with her immediately— the first word she'd heard since the ground had broken apart, crushing all that she loved— and its prompt arrival brought forth an equally direct response: "Deviljho." Her tail wagged slightly, in armistice, then she took a step or two forward as a show of good faith. Atypical to her usual approach, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

"When was the last time you ate?"

Deviljho, she repeated in her head, although she dare not speak it out loud; she ran the risk of stumbling over the new syllables, and that wouldn't do. The steps forward, and the question, surprised her, and she felt the distant rumble of thunder—no, wait, that was just her stomach gurgling again. Damned noisy thing.

I had a rat a few days ago, Preeti admitted. Uh, a squirrel a few before that, I think. It has been a long time since I've had a proper meal. Lips pressed tight in a frown, she blinked in inquiry at the other woman. What about you?

Deviljho was rather skinny, but perhaps that was just her normal form. Preeti was on the lean side herself, even in times of plenty. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that this new acquaintance was starving, too. Who wasn't starving, these days?