Porcupine Ridge and I told you to be patient

for @Greyback (horribly sorry for the wait on this :( ) edit: backdated about 2 weeks 

With the passage of grains through the hourglass, the tapeesa gained some courage. It was not a substantial amount, and it was likely accredited to the lessons with Yuudai, but enough that she found the nerve to venture from the Vale's walls again. 

The sun warmed her ivory coat, burning against the pink flesh underneath the thin wisps, as she picked her way diligently amongst the treacherous terrain of the mountain's northern ridge. It was not unwelcome, this warmth, rather, she relished it - hoping the heat just might burn its way beneath her flesh to chase the ice from her veins. 

A foolish notion, she would later realize, when her romantic's heart had fallen dormant in the cage of her chest once more. 

Amidst the cool shade of a bountiful glen, the sunburnt midwife searched for herbs - finding and gathering a pile of black haw to add to her medicine stocks. 

 

sorry for the late response!

Step by step.
Step by step.

The man listened to the soft thumps of his paws across the earth, the grass shifting in his wake, the song bird's sweet voices above. Occasionally he would hear another voice on the wind; alluring, calling. Sometimes it was Venicy. Sometimes it was Valette.

Sometimes it was no one at all.

But... All was right.

All was peaceful.

In his old age the man had begun to notice more and more with passing time. What he gave up for in his mobility, he had gained in senses and the ability to feel the world around him. He would occasionally watch the trees above, the bison below, and the ants that danced around his paws way below.

But today he had noticed another—their pelt like a flash of light within the ever-shifting field of grass. They were a stranger he had never met, their form like no other he had seen.

Perhaps the animals of these lands were like her; slender an white, unique and alluring in a sense that made them seem as if he was dreaming. He watched her for a bit, his orange-honey gaze tracking her movements before deciding such an action could be seen as unbecoming of a man with his rank in time. He cleared his throat to her, hoping to garner her attention.

The soft rumble of a throat being cleared drew her attention, head snapping upwards as the herbs trickled from her jaws like jade droplets. 

He'd blended in well, huge and shale - sturdy like the stones he curled amongst. Only the citrine of his vibrant gaze revealed him, and only then if you knew what to look for. 

"Fergive me, ser," the healer implored softly as her head bowed diffidently, "I didnae know ze lan' vas claime'."

The accent is a surprise to him, one that makes him quirk his head and still. A foreigner for sure, one that carries a tune he gently remembers from the past.

A white wolf on the borders. Covered in a cloak of red.

A black male he had to carry out by the scruff.

"No need for apologies, miss..?" He paused, not knowing her name and dipping his head down in greetings. When she offers it he would only correct himself, smiling. "I am Greyback, leader of Easthollow. I only come to patrol and enjoy the evening. Perhaps you may keep me company? "

"I am name' Awenfen," the ivory hart proferred, soft as goosedown, maintaining a respectful disposition under the fiery gaze of an unknown man. 

"Awen is fine zough, or Fen if'n ye'd pre-fer," she went on to say, wispy auds perking slightly in surprise as he revealed his status. 

The stone golem was an elder certainly, though she supposed these lands were rather different than the north - less competitive and more familial. While it may have been impossible for a male of Greyback's age to lead in her homelands, things were a whole different hunting field down here. 

"I vould like zat," she answered simply, honestly. Gathering her belongings, she moved to climb up to his perch and sit aside him.

"Awfenfen, then." He nodded, testing the name of his lips. Truth be told Greyback didn't know how to feel about dropping the formalities with this lady, he had only just met her, and they were barely anything but acquainted. Yet he conceded with her wishes and sat a distance down from her.

"You are not a wolf," he stated, question hidden with the matter-of-fact tone he used. Her ears were far too different, body lithe and much softer than those of wolves hes met. It was strange. "I have never talked with someone of your features. Where do you hail from?"

Blissfully unaware of the impropriety of her social blunder, the woman clambered up and settled herself neatly in the corner opposite him - rabbit pelt stuffed with herbs placed between them as a subconscious sort of boundary. 

"Nae, not compl-etely," she answered though it wasn't quite a question as owlish eyes turned to him, head cocking at his benign curiosity. 

"Nort'," she answered, not completely resolute in her answer. "I'm not sure vhere exactly...me mother serve' two Masters," she went on to explain, wrongly assuming Greyback would understand that she spoke of two-legs.

To his surprise, Greyback had underestimated the thickness of her accent and dialogue. It was quite hard to decipher for the nordic man, but he assumed he got the gist and would subtly nod after her words. They were similar to his own speech, yet different and spoken with a tongue that proved to still be too foreign to his ears. "My apologies, you do not look wolf to my old eyes. Perhaps I am getting rather old," he chuckled deep within his throat.

"I see.. Two masters?" He questioned, head cocking along with hers. "Did she live in an empire under two alphas? I have only heard the term 'masters' when it pertains to those circumstances." Heavens above, he wished the girls mother wasn't a slave.

There's a hint of surprise in those weathered, graying features which he soon confirms. A hint of joviality sparkles in the moonstones of her gaze, in the duck of her head. 

"Zat's alrigh'," she soughed quietly, a chuckle hidden in the hushed tones. It was no secret the druid looked rather odd. "Nae many see it."

"Nae, jus' ze two of zem. 'er pack vas very small. Jus' us and ze two Masters," she answered with a slight shake of her head. "Zey were, ah... Giskyri. 'air-less, save fer zeir 'eads an' zey valk on zeir 'ind-legs like bears." 

Greyback's ears perked as the maiden chuckled and denied his inquiries. "Walk on hind legs?" He echoed, head tilting. He had never heard of the word 'Giskyri' but in the context, he assumed it had something to do with appearance. Different from their heads? Like bears? It was extremely odd and sounded something of a fairy tale within the man's mind.

Perhaps a story to scare whelps into staying by the den.

"I have never heard of such a thing... Pray tell, what is that language you spoke? Your dialect is most foreign to me..ah— giskyri?" He knew he had butchered the word as he spoke it, ruining it with his eastern tongue.

"Aye," she answered, though the question seemed rhetorical, growing slightly uneasy as Greyback appeared to be in disbelief. 

The male didn't appear to be growing irate, as some men seemed to when they perceived a falsehood, leading the woman to nod mutely along as he spoke - only vaguely nervous. 

"It is ze tongue of ze druids, me people," the midwife explained, lilt colored by an undercurrent of pride and longing.

"Druids?" He echoed once more to the pale woman, unknowing of the words she had spoken. He was still confused on the language, of the wolves and of the masters, of the 'giskyri.' But just as he asked the man felt a tad shameful for being so dumbfounded.

"My apologies, I do not mean to pester you with my questions. I am but an old wolf," He laughed, hiding the uneasiness quelling within his gut. "You do not have to answer. Why don't you ask me questions for now, i'd be more than willing to tell you anything you wonder about."

"Yes, ze people of ze vood - ze people of ze olde vays. Zey are..eh, pagans? Zey revere nature," she tried to explain, beginning to think that Greyback must surely believe her to be spinning fantastical yarns. 

"Ye said ye vere ze leader of, ah, Easthollow, yes? Tell me about yer pack, vhat is it like?" The hart went on to ask curiously, head tilting.

She'd had only a brief encounter with Seelie Court and resided with the Empire for a few brief moon phases. Perhaps it would be wise to gather information on the other packs within Teekon; should her mission fail, the midwife may need to seek a new home amongst them.

Pagans. Greyback was aware of those who worshiped such a thing—but had never heard of the word 'druid' incorporated with their subject.

Regardless, he cleared his throat and avoided talking further of it lest he continue to embarrass himself. "Yes, that is correct. I run Easthollow with my mate—Valette. She is very kind, yet fierce," he laughed, thinking back to all the times he's seen her run across the meadow only to snarl at intruders. "We are a kind pack, close in heart yet big in numbers. I suppose you could call us all a family."

The man then turned his head and sat up slowly, his hips not being as strong as they once were as he hobbled a few paced forward. "We live by those stones, can you see them? The ones arranged in a circle."

Though she had never met his Valette, a smile of admiration found its way to her lips - faintly wistful in its culmination. A stab of envy pierced her lonely heart but it was outweighed by her joy in hearing of what sounded like a lovely life that Greyback shared with his wife.

"Ah, zose?" The sighthound murmured as she too rose and padded to the patriarch's side - pale gaze locking on a distant ring of pillars, a natural Stonehenge amongst the wilderness. 

"It soun's vonderful," the midwife expressed genuinely, ivory plume sweeping in a gentle wag.