Blackfeather Woods and I bleed when I fall down
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#1
All Welcome 
a day and night has passed since dacio's death and praimfaya does not feel better. if anything, she feels worse. like her heart was rotting away in her chest; festering. aching. she ventures east, dwelling in the haunting shadows of the dark woods. she eats to quell the rumble of her stomach but the rabbit she devours is bland, tasteless. the whispers of the commanders are cruel in her mind; until they cut her one by one to the quick of her bone. the chill of the moderate snowfall, the worst of which the dark woods keeps at bay doesn't faze her. still, she seeks the mouth of one of the dark woods' caves for shelter all the same; out of instinct.

to be commander is to be alone.
always in this twilight
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#2
the shadows twist protectively around her frame, offering velveteen caresses as she breathes. she'd often pondered over what she might've done had she discovered that some random group of wolves had sought refuge within the forest during her absence, it would have driven her crazy and yet what could she have done? they were essentially fair game now after all, there was no rule stating that previous territories couldn't be claimed; in fact it seemed wolves had already settled snugly into the late courtfall's vale. ears flick as if to swat away such thoughts, for now she might as well bask in gladness that the woods still belonged to the ravens murmuring above /not that she'd ever thought it didn't even when the blackfeather wolves had skulked within the shadows./

licking at dry lips, stiff steps carried her further into the gloom; relishing in the way it rose to greet her. winds growled far above but the trees swatted it away with tense whispers as tundra passed beneath unaffected. her shoulder was proving to be a bothersome companion much to her own displeasure and she oft found herself fighting back the urge to wince whenever in a strenuous position. unable to actually see it herself, she could only presume that the wound there was inflamed for whatever reason and it was seriously that last thing she needed considering her packless state. 

the chill was settling deep within her bones, digging mercilessly into her wearied frame and so she guiltlessly aimed for the nearby caves, jaws widening to take in the air needed for a successful yawn. still instinctively used to the woods being safe from intrusion, it is with a start that she notices the pale figure nestled within the yawning mouth. having not been quite so alert, she'd let herself prowl much too close before noticing the girl. "ohis all to fall from jaws and thud limply upon the hardened earth. there is the briefest of moments where she feels the urge of the former decima to curl back lips and chase her from trees with their curious birds but it passes with a mere sigh as muscles slacken.  they had as much right as the other to be here and she was fucking tired so asides from murky eyes remaining narrowed warily, the woman does not opt to move closer into the the ghostly stranger's space.
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#3
oh

at first, praimfaya assumes that it is a ghost it is a noise of the forest; a call of one of the ravens that haunt this place. upon second thought, she realizes it was too specific of a noise and not squawk like enough to have came from a bird. she pirouettes on swift feet, her movements that of a trained warrior as her frostbound gaze combs the forest.

it lands, cold and mercurial upon the other pale pelaged woman lurking in the shadows. you sound surprised, praimfaya observes, the voice that comes from her is lighter than the crushing grief she feels; coying, almost.
always in this twilight
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#4
sharded hematite watches appreciatively at the fluidity to guide the phantasm to gaze upon the intrusion that was tundra. blinking slowly, ears lean forth to meet the approach of her statement and slender shoulders lift in a listless shrug as a return is softly uttered "i wasn't expecting anyone to be here was allswishing her feathery tail languidly at her hocks, she watches with subdued curiosity. the scent had slowly creeped alongside the tumbling mist so that her next inhale came loaded with new information. not strong but present, her nose wrinkles. a pack, a familiar pack scent at that but she couldn't place a finger on where exactly....

studying her a little closer now, a wistful ache twists in her gut at the inner observation that the pallid fae was around the same age as rowan. rowan who'd come to courtfall only to disappear and when confronted with that news from moonshadow and upon promising to find him she too had vanished without a word. swallowing hastily against the shame, the woman leaned wearily back on her haunches with a soft grunt at the ache to radiate forth with sneering persistence. "so, come here often?she's definitely curious as to whether the stranger has any connection to the shady forest or if it was merely a pit stop. not that many seemed to consider it an ideal place to set up temporary camp.
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#5
the reason is sound enough; though a bit curious as it is azreina's general assumption that to think that there wasn't wolves — lone mostly but pack wolves on missions, too — wandering about seems a bit presumptuous. not that azreina is innocent of that. indeed, these woods are dark, dank and there is a certain ...aura that hangs over the spindly branches that azreina finds almost cloying. nevertheless, it is not moonspear and thus as good as any other place she has sought shelter on the run.

though, outrunning who she was, everything she fought for, the ones she loved so very fiercely and mourn like a planet mourns the death of its star was likely futile. still, she doesn't stop moving. she tries.

so, come here often?

azreina hasn't answered the other's initial observation; simply accepts it as it was but at the questions considers it with a small tilt of her head.

it sounds like the kind of question a guy might ask a girl at the bar, sitting by her lonesome, nursing her rum and coke.

no. azreina responds honestly. this is her first time, she is fairly sure, stepping foot in these woods. she feels like she should say something else; like her answer had been too vague. i'm just passing through. she isn't so sure she wants to entrust her secrets to a stranger and so covets them close to her chest.
always in this twilight
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#6
there is a peculiar familiarity about the frosty figure, tundra couldn't quite place exactly what it was but it left her feeling oddly at ease. an almost bittersweet melancholy stirred from the depths of her chest in response to the strange reaction yet with a small frown she pushed it back, putting it down to a little glitch in her system and leaving it at that. yet shadowed eyes grazed across her form with more intensity than she granted most as the breezes whispered eagerly far above. did she seem...troubled? it wasn't her place to care, and it was a bit of a bizzare assumption to make in the first place. sure her company didn't exactly radiate pure unfiltered joy or anything but very little wolves that had lived at all tended to. so sure maybe she was a bit frigid, but why did her mind leap ahead of her straight to troubled? her brow creases as she breaks the stare to blink off into the gloomy caress of the woods.

ears flick to catch the single syllable tossed her way and she nods as she returns her hollow look to the stranger. there's not much else to say, but then she moves on to elaborate; only slightly but it is not quite so terse as previously. "your pack...she murmurs softly, head tipping to the side slightly. "i think i've met someone from there before but i can't quite remember, what is it?she wants to ask 'why are you passing by if you have a pack?' but it seems too personal to launch right into. plus, her strange assumptions could be completely off, the girl could've been on some sort of mission beforehand or simply wandering like tundra herself so frequently did. aware that she was posing the questions, she offered some information of her own; accompanying it a small shrug of her shoulders. "i'm tundra anyway, i used to live here with a pack a while back.it's not a whole lot yet it still feels wrong to offer up information so willingly like that, in fact she's not sure why exactly she'd felt the need to. silence attempts to trickle between them once more but it's a fruitless effort in woods like these. ears tilt to catch each murmur of shivering branches and caw of vigilant ravens, relishing in their muted chatter as she awaited a response from the little spectre.
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