Shimmering Sands sometimes they fall down for a reason
the gunslinger
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All Welcome 
I'm rusty so please forgive me. I'd love to have anyone who will be a little patient with someone who hasn't written for a while. <3
 

After all that time that he had spent away from it, the smell of the sea was sharp.
 
Standing on the edge of the shore with the wind brushing through the ashen hairs of his back, Illidan regarded the lapping waves with an expression that reflected the intense forlorn energy that had swelled inside of him. Time had changed that beach little. Nature had a way of existing the same way it always had.
 
A deep sigh passed from his dark nose. Only a moment more did the young beast allow himself to stand at the edge of the world and ponder before he turned toward where he knew his home would be – where he knew Ankyra Sound would be – and began to walk. Little did he know that Ankyra Sound would not be the destination he sought.
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praimfaya does not recall blodreina ever taking her to the coast ...and if she has she knows she has not been here regardless. it's ...pretty she admits to herself as her steps pause as she regards the pearlescent white sand and clear water that crashes upon the shore with a constant and yet, in a calm tide, rhythmic rumble. she isn't sure what to make of the salty tang of the air; both a distinctive smell and taste. it is exotic, perhaps. exotic to her because she had been denied being birthed at the dragon cliffs as she had been meant to.

in this, the scent reminds her a bit of blodreina, ingram and dacio and brings with it a swell of nostalgia twined closely with reflective sadness — with a stabbing side of regret for leaving opalia without a word. she'd came here to enjoy the seaside ...not allow herself to be haunted by her ghosts and she tucks those thoughts away.

just in time, too; for her frostbound gaze sweeps away from the frothy seafoam and the rippling water to see a figure in the distance. she doesn't seek to close distance immediately, instead offering him a chuff of greeting to see how he would take her proposed company.
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a chuff sounded, and a single rusty ear swiveled to where it had originated. the ghost had not recognized the sound of the voice behind the approacher, but that was no sign that he did not know them. slowly, illidan turned his head to latch his hawkish gaze onto the shape of the other wolf; this was entirely a stranger to him.
 
though she was unfamiliar, the ghost did not appear to be bothered by her presence. he stood rather rigidly, but not with defense or distrust. there was a lonesome glint in the sharp yellow of his eyes. it was as though apathy had washed away the portions of him that should have feared the approach of an unfamiliar wolf. he was filled instead with a listless sense of disregard for even his own wellbeing.
 
illidan waited to see if the other would continue to close the space between them, or change their mind.
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upon closer inspection as praimfaya draws nearer as the stranger doesn't give any sign that he was going to chase her off, she is struck by a false sense of familiarity. he looks like the woman who told her of verx's death ...the woman dacio had called blackhead and she wonders if it is coincidence or if he is related to her; and abruptly decides that it doesn't matter. there is a lonely, forlorn air about him that speaks to the compassion that she, no matter how barbaric she may be, cannot turn off.

it's a nice view, isn't it? she breaks the silence, gesturing towards the scenic landscape before them, eolian sands with a soft movement of her muzzle as she stops a few feet away from him. i'm not from the coast so it's always a marvel to me. he hasn't asked but she feels inclined to elaborate anyway. i'm praimfaya.
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the stranger stopped no more than a few feet away from where he was. she made a gesture to the seaside with her muzzle, offering a few conversational words. a comment about not being accustomed to the way the ocean looked, and then an introduction. the ghostly young man turned his gaze toward her and did what he could to save the image of her face in his mind. she felt fuzzy – out of focus.
 
“illidan,” he offered his own name in return to her, and a small dip of his muzzle in a way that was almost apologetic. the way her name sounded had been peculiar to him. an itch in his ear that he couldn’t quite remove. the ghost squinted against the sunlight to peer at her frame, wondering if it was not the first that they had seen each other. things were difficult to recall, though.
 
“we haven’t met before, have we?”
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illidan, he introduces himself as; and offers no response to her commentary on the seaside. praimfaya offers a soft smile and doesn't take it to heart. he seems ...distracted, she notes, though without knowing him doesn't think it fair to interpret too much more than that. she inhales deeply, tasting the tang of the sea brine and lets her frostbound gaze wander over the frothy waves of the sea as they crash against the sandy shore before he speaks again, inquiring on whether they met before or not. her gaze flickers back to him; contemplating. no, praimfaya says with firm conviction. we haven't... and then she adds with a playful quip. unless i have a doppleganger somewhere out there. but she's pretty sure she doesn't.
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relief washed through him, causing the notable jut of his shoulders to fall slightly. since returning to the wilds, his head had been so foggy. he didn’t understand why he couldn’t remember some faces. trauma had ravaged his mind in ways that he could not fully comprehend. the knowledge that he had not forgotten the girl who stood beside him – had not even met her before – was enough to ease his troubled mind, if only for a moment.
 
“you may,” he indulged with a ghost of a smile on the edges of his lips. turning to her, it seemed that it was the first time that the young man actually saw her. his eyes roamed her figure and took in the physical traits that she had – the notable ones. “just as likely as i am.”
 
the words tasted sour. he thought of his mother.
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that's true, i may... praimfaya allows, her lips mirroring what is a mere ghost upon his lips with the real thing; tail swaying jovially behind her. if i do i'd like to meet them. might be fun to pretend to be to use it to cause some mischief. she laughs at the idea, and her playfulness makes itself known in the twinkle in her frostbound gaze. she spent so much time being serious that the idea of causing some harmless trouble was ...kind of silly; but that's also what made the idea fun. well, now that you mention it i did meet a woman who looked a lot like you. or well, you look like her since she was obviously older, praimfaya trails off with a soft shrug of her shoulders, unable to help the more insistent suspicion that he is blackhead's son ...but even if her suspicion was right the past was the past and whatever had transpired between rusalka and drageda didn't involve her. praimfaya has proven time and again that she was willing to build bridges where nothing but animosity and ash lay waste over chasms that once seemed impossible to cross.

she was the commander, even if she had no pack in these wilds beneath her reign. if she didn't try to forge a new path ...then what was the point?

praimfaya gives a soft clear of her throat, not wanting to linger on the topic of blackhead. do you have a place you're heading? she inquires softly.
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the young man did not feel as though he had earned the smile she had offered him. his ashen tail wavered slightly to her. it would have been rather fun to watch two lookalikes wreak havoc on those who were unaware. when she carried on and mentioned that she had – in fact – seen someone who looked just like him, the ghost knew that she was speaking of his mother. illidan bowed his head pensively and nodded once to her. “my mother, yes,” he confirmed in his haggard tones.
 
“i was going to ankyra sound, if it still stands without claim,” illidan then answered her query honestly. the hawkish yellow of his eyes traveled to her frame. he wondered if it would suit him to inquire about guard duties and whether or not she might humor such a trip. perhaps this girl did not even know of the territory that he spoke of. to the weary wanderer, it was his last chance for some reprieve.
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my mother, yes,

he confirms and praimfaya gives a soft nod of acknowledgement as she processes that information. she looks to him, frostbound gaze soft, thinking of dacio and his sister and the incredible compassion he showed her ...because of praimfaya herself, he'd credited. my mother was dragedian. she admits as soft as her gaze. i am wanheda, the commander of my people. ...if you accept, i would like to put the fight between our families to rest. she extends the olive branch hopefully. she barely knows him, it's true, but she likes what she's seen thus far and does not want to carry on the war of their predecessors.

she might've been the commander of death but she only wanted to build bridges and mend rifts ...an oxymoron if there ever was one.

i haven't ever been to ankyra sound myself but when i passed by, it bore no pack scent, praimfaya informs him. i doubt that's changed in such a short time. she says confidently with a wag of her tail. are you going to settle it? she inquires, assuming that it's the case. the only alternative was to live there alone and that seemed like a horribly lonely existence.

providing he didn't attempt to chase her off for being a dragedian descendent ( commander of her people at that ) she diverts her gaze for a moment, glimpsing at the calm sea, watching seaweed tangle in the foam of the waves before her gaze drifted back to him. i was planning on heading up to dragoncrest cliffs, see the place my mother loved. would you mind some company on your trip? she inquires, uncharacteristically shyly.

276 words
the gunslinger
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the girl spoke words to him in a tongue that he knew as being only vaguely familiar. it was their language, but that didn’t matter much to the ghost anymore. when the woman made a comment about ending the battle between their two families, the dark-hooded young beast cast a glance toward her. the expression on his features was haunted. illidan allowed the silence to fill the space between them for quite some time before he finally nodded and released the breath he had been holding.
 
there was no reason for their feud when most of them were dead.
 
she mentioned that she had never seen the sound. then, she was able to cleanse some of the worry from the young wolf’s mind by informing him that she had not detected a scent when she had last passed near its borders. if he should seek to claim it… the very idea of ruling in the sound was rife with poison that filled his insides in a white-hot fire.
 
“i would not mind the company, though i am uncertain if i would claim the sound,” the ghost answered her hoarsely, regarding her with a mournful look. “but that may change when i see it again.”
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you get my 400th post!

praimfaya's frostbound gaze watches him as she proposes the idea of ending the feud, unsure if he will feel the same as her in regards to putting it to the grave — where she, carrying it despite it having naught to do with her, feels it belongs. in all honesty, it should've died with the commander at the time when she took her life. she watches him nod and the tension praimfaya has not realized that had been blooming in her shoulders releases. she offers him a small smile brimming with her relief and the hope that things could be better. she has enough enemies without adding an inherited one to the list. to new beginnings then. she murmurs with a soft laugh.

to her surprise — for praimfaya has come to expect little in this world — he doesn't reject her offer for company and though she feels a small blossom of joy in her chest at that it withers quickly at the hoarse tone he uses, the mourning in his gaze as it makes contact with her own. she wants to ask about the mournful look; with a desperateness that dances on the tip of her tongue but disregards the question. they don't know each other well enough that she feels she can inquire, suspecting that it is deeply personal ( even if she is wrong ).

and then she wants to reassure him but words slip from betwixt her teeth like smoke; eluding her. you'll know when we get there. perhaps it lacks the reassurance she means for to have, limited by this being their first meeting, but it seems like a good thing to say at the time.

shall we? praimfaya inquires with a wag of her tail behind her and a gesture east of her muzzle.
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;o; thank u for blessing me with ur 400th post. would you be okay if i made us a new thread?

shall we?

the invitation was warmer than he had expected it to be. the girl was warmer too, in many ways. if his mind were in a better state, illidan might have wondered if his kin had been too quick to judge the wolves of the cliffs. as it was, he thought that praimfaya was simply a rare breed; she did not fit in with the other drageda wolves. in that, the ghostly figure believed there was comfort. 

he took his place beside the girl and they set a steady pace down the length of the coast. she did well to carry their conversation - seemingly unbothered by his rather quiet state - and allowed him to carry the words when he had the strength to do so. 

their partnership was one that had not been anticipated, but could lead to great things.
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@Illidan that'd be great ( tagging so u see this~)! i'll go ahead and wrap up & archive with this post. <3

it was easy, praimfaya realizes as they begin their journey, to be in his presence. though once upon a time she was so ready set to take on her mother's and the commander before her's grudges ...but she's long since known it was past time to bury past prejudices; and there is nothing about illidan presence that she finds unsettling. sure, perhaps he isn't the most talkative guy but she is eager enough to fill the silence with eager chatter when the gentle lulling roar of the ocean as it crashes upon the sands is too much for her. perhaps if things were different, she'd find the sound comforting ...but as it was she finds it reminds her a bit too much of the rumbling of the rockslide that killed her mother when she paid it too much attention.