Kintla Flatlands my heart will be blacker than your eyes.

@Aktaiê or any Nereides really who will come recruit my sad little girl since I missed the original party ^_^

It was late in the evening. Clouds swirled overhead and somewhere far off, thunder boomed across the sky. She was returning from a day of studies with her mentor. The journey was long, for there were no Keepers in the Darroch pack. Darrochs were warriors, outriders and hunters. Darrochs were not storytellers.

Her mother appeared, a lovely black ghost on the land with eyes that shined a warm silvery blue. But something was wrong. Her eyes were hard like shards of ice. She approached her daughter stiffly, mechanically, like a puppet fruitlessly fighting against its strings. "You cannot come home," the specter said, "You must go, little lark." The girl cried, begging not to be sent away. "It's not my fault," she cried, "Devia chose me, I didn't choose this. She chose me!"

The specter did not waver. When it spoke again, it was not with her mother's voice, but her father's. "Darrochs are not Keepers. Darrochs are warriors, Darrochs are blood and iron. You are no Darroch," came his voice through her mother's mouth while her mother's blue eyes swam with tears. "You cannot come home," it repeated, even as the girl fell to the ground to grovel and cry at its feet.

The snarl came with another crack of thunder and like a viper, the ghost struck while she cried and begged, again and again, the teeth at her face, claws at her back, and the roars of rage.. rage from her mother for having to do what she did, rage of her father for having such a pathetic excuse for a daughter...


Cethleann woke suddenly, gasping for breath as she rolled onto her stomach and grabbed the ground with her claws. She turned her gaze frantically, finding no one and nothing she recognized, which brought her to steady her breath. She was not in the Vale. She was safe; her family and the pain they had brought to her were far behind her.

The yearling laid her head back down between her paws, whispering a soft thank you to the Gods. It was still a couple of hours before dawn, but Cethleann knew very well that she wouldn't be falling back to sleep, not with her heart still pounding the way it was. The pallid female pulled herself to her paws and crept quietly away. She stopped upon a crest of land not too far from where she had started where she dropped to her haunches. Her stomach gave an irritated grumble, causing the girl to wince from the pain of hunger. She was thin and haggard like a rag doll--a child tired beyond her years with no desire to sleep for this was not her first, nor would it be her last, nightmare.

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Psamathe's vision urged their party to turn northwards, promising a reunion with their Mother — and though Aktaiê wanted very much to run without stopping to the Sea's embrace, she had decided they would take their time. Others were coming, strengthening their number... a welcome blessing, and one that would solidify their claim when the time came. Greatwater Lake was their temporary camp, where they drew strength from its small link to the Sea, where others would continue to gather. In another night, perhaps two, they would continue north and settle upon the shores that awaited.

Still, Aktaiê was restless in the night; on this night especially, with the Mother Moon gone from the starscape that was endless above them. Thankfully, in this neutral territory, the many packs that inhabited the Wilds were little threat and not quite so nocturnal. It gave the priestess the freedom to explore without Greyjoy at her back like a shadow; a presence she was accustomed to, but one she sometimes wished she did not have.

With dawn's light threatening to trickle over the horizon, Aktaiê supposed she should return to the others for their circle of watches and sleep — it was hours, yet, but they would want to hear of the information she had gathered in the night. A soft thump sounded nearby, and the priestess paused in her gait, ears and eyes alert. As her gaze swept the landscape for danger, it came to rest upon the small form of another wolf.

Now this was interesting.

Aktaiê approached the other's back, her movements lithe and silent. "You're alone," she murmured gently, and it was not obvious if she thought the other could hear it or not.

The quiet lark was lost in her own thoughts as she was approached by the stranger--a folly she would have been smart enough to avoid had her father bothered to teach her anything about survival in the wild. She had never been worth the time, however. So when a gentle voice sounded nearby, she caught her breath hard in her throat and turned to look at the other female with fright in her eyes.

"Oh! I'm sorry," Cethleann said as she came to realize she was not in any danger, "You startled me for a moment..."

The girl bowed her head in submission, her ears falling gently against her head. It was a posture she wore regularly having spent her lifetime bowing, so the look came quite naturally to her. She chanced a glance at the other female's face seeking any sign of forgiveness before looking down awkwardly at her paws. The woman's words came to her then, but she held still her tongue and bit back her own curiosity, unsure if it had been a question or merely a comment. And if it was just a comment, for what reason exactly did the woman have for bringing it up at all?

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Aktaiê gazed down upon the other with eyes the color of the sea, her expression neutral and somehow motherly. She said nothing for a time, watching in silence as the female's posture sank submissively. When the other looked up, her glance searching, the siren had smiled inwardly — her thoughts her own, at least for the time being. Still, after the murmured words had fallen from her lips, Aktaiê's voice faded to another silence... perhaps longer than what was considered comfortable. But like the Sea, the Nereides were powerful in their patience; to the siren, it felt no more unnatural than breathing.

When no words were offered, the priestess sat, her head cocked. Her eyes swept over the stranger, noting her small stature and posture that broadcasted her insecurity. Finally, the siren spoke, her accent lilting. "We stand on neutral ground, sister," for all women were sisters, though some had forgotten their shared Mothers, "You are in no danger. Do you live nearby?" At this, Aktaiê's demeanor shifted slightly, eyes moving to search the landscape. Their camp was safe enough for now, but they would need to move on before a neighboring pack came posturing.

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Cethleann sat quietly while the woman inspected her. At least, she thought that was what was happening. Ceth remained still, instinctively following the precedent of silence that was being set. The expression upon the umber marbled female's bold face was not one that was cause for concern, but the girl was not unaware of the power that resounded behind it and so she remained uneasy. Ceth had been molded into a docile puppet of a wolf--innately subservient to dominance without question and easily controlled. The very fact that this wolf was not glaring at her with disdain was enough to unsettle her.

The lark listened closely to each word that was spoken, searching for a hint of what was wanted from her. When she was referred to as "sister", it was nearly as startling as Aktaie's sudden appearance. Her own siblings never once had referred to her as sister--Not with their father's ears everywhere. And only her mother had ever spoken to her with a semblance of kindness. It was harder to understand than even the woman's strange accent.

"I do not," Ceth admitted softly, "Where I lived is a great distance from here. I do not live anywhere now." The expression she gave the woman was one of apology, partly because she was truly sorry that she was unable to give any information that she could tell was being sought, but also because.. that's just what her face did.

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She found the girl's submission unnecessary, but at the same time it did serve to inflate her ego; the flaw in a wolf so vain as Aktaiê, though it was a flaw difficult to detect. Nothing was said after the stranger's apologetic speech — another thing that had been wholly unnecessary — and the priestess returned to her feet to circle slowly around the potential recruit. It served the subtle arrogance of the Nereides, as well as served to test the younger female. She had seen greater females tremble from nerves in such an uncertain situation; this one was not Nereides born, but she could be Nereides made.

"How have you come to be alone?" she questioned finally, taking a seat back where she had started. "And your name is?"

They talked for some time, until Aktaiê finally invited the girl to join her as a follower. She would grow fond of the youth, but that would quickly grow to become ire when Cethleann vanished from Aktaiê's growing number without a trace.