Honeyed Pasture o, are you a pirate, or a man o' war

Anyone!

Onwards the Tortugan crew travelled, spreading out like fingers across the lands in search for the boy Alizarin and the wolves of Rusalka. Though they favoured scouting along the coast, Kingsley decided to chance heading inland for a while. Perhaps the wolves from the packs here knew the whereabouts of the quarry they searched for.

With loping strides, the man made his way through a rolling field, almost sea-like with its long grasses and far-reaching horizon. He cast a scrutinising gaze over it, noting a small herd of deer in the distance, before dropping his nose towards the earth and beginning his search for wolf scent.

The huntress watches the herd with a curious gaze, those icy eyes focused as they counted the numbers, as they looked at those that may be with child and others who looked as though this winter might give them a run for their money. Studying, she is nearly caught off guard by the approach of another wolf. She was in fact caught off guard though when she took a deep breath, catching his scent, she would turn her attention to realize he was not yet close. 

Within the tall grasses, turning color from their green with the autumn months, she could barely see him. She is quiet only, for the time being, her dark and slender frame remaining crouched low as she went back to studying the herd off in the distance.

He approached the woman at a distance, unknowingly heading towards her for a time until his nose picked up on her pine and salt-crested scent as the wind changed direction. Immediately that sly, crooked grin contorted Kingsley's features, and he picked up the pace, eyes scouring the field for the female.

Only he could not find her crouched form hidden amongst the long grasses' shadows, dark as she was, and so the pirate went for his preferred method of weeding out wily rogues. "'Hoy!" he called out boisterously with a wave of his tail like a flag in hopes of drawing her to him. "An' here I was thinkin' I was alone out 'ere!"

The huntress remained focused to the herd, at least, until the roguish voice of the other wolf calls out through the open plains. The herd stirs, the sound of a wolf putting them off. Though it is at a distance they begin to casually walk on. The Archer's jaw does tighten, icy eyes narrowing on the group until then she directs her gaze elsewhere, to the agouti wolf making way towards her. 

A lone wolf you may be, but alone, not. She spoke as she then lifts from her position hidden in the long blades. A tall woman she was, though not imposing in might, as a thin boned, long and stream-line woman she was. More athlete then amazon as perhaps her sister, @Valencia. I visit the plains and meadow often.