The Tangle gymnopédie no.1
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#1
All Welcome 
They would make a stop here, it had been decided.

The sharp winds from the north billowed in with heavy clouds, the snow thick and untouched in these tangles. They had agreed not to go deep into the woods here but still she stared into them. The trees ugly and gnarled, they spoke to her.

Yet there was no need to go wander into them. She held no interest in wandering far from the makeshift camp her and @Kigipigak had made. It would do no good to spook him — or even herself — if she got lost in the tangled woods.

So instead she set out to do work, to make the space more...livable for the time being.

She'd dig into the snow of where they had burrowed the night before, intent on opening up the space a bit more. If only she had more pelts. Although truthfully that would make this place feel far too permanent and she ought to save the idea for when they did find a home.
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Ooc — mercury
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a gnarled bit of territory juts out from the Rise's northwest border; she'd seen it on patrols but only today thinks to penetrate the unappealing land. it separates her land from Erzulie's, and she thinks the two packs can perhaps use it as a mutual hunting ground.

no deer could thrive here, she thinks, but small game could flourish in warmer conditions: groundhogs, hares, and the like. whatever lived here, though, is underground, burrowed away from the cold.

she's walked for a long while before the scent of wolf reaches her nose—and not Sapphique.

a woman, pelt reminiscent of her own but much darker, digging. Avicus barks in her direction and strides closer, her posture wary but not yet confrontational. sure enough, no familiar sea-smell clings to the wolf; not Erzulie, not Rosalyn, nor anyone else.

who're you? why you dig? she fires off, jerking her chin toward the hole in the snow.
but see, amid the mimic rout,
a crawling shape intrude —
a blood-red thing that writhes from out
the scenic solitude
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#3
doing this on mobile at work so sorry if it’s meh but i really wanted to respond!

Two questions summoned her attention and she wondered which one was more important. Who she was, or why she dug into the cold hard ground.

Pale moon eyes looked upon and rested upon what almost was a mirror. Lighter than her, but close all the same. The woman was much more autumn than the burnt embers and smoke of Sakhmet. She was stunning, even with the smoldering of her interrogation.

Was that a remnant of jealousy in her stomach?

I am making a more livable spot until I find a way through here. Mostly honest. The jealousy of this stranger was hot and ugly enough to not bring Kigipigak into this, the autumn woman need not know he was around somewhere.

For the moment being, she left her name unspoken.
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Ooc — mercury
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your writing is *never* meh

if Avicus—battle-hardened, raggedy Avicus—knew the other wolf held jealousy based upon appearances, she would have milked that for all its worth. but she's unaware, unable to read it in the woman's face, and so she addresses the matter at hand directly.

pack over 'hhere, she says, nodding toward Sapphique, then turns to her own claim, an' pack over here. you in mi'ddhle. you know?

her tone is casual enough, but the implied warning is clear. stray too far in either direction. . .

the young woman—older than she is, Avicus notes—presents no open threat, but the Wealda has always considered everything unknown (and even most things known) a potential threat, and that proclivity has only increased as she has aged.
but see, amid the mimic rout,
a crawling shape intrude —
a blood-red thing that writhes from out
the scenic solitude
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#5
<3

The wildfire spoke in rough ways. Not the way Kigipigak’s voice was hardened, not the way her mother’s voice had croaked with grief or anguish. This was something of the physical state of her, Sakhmet presumed — or perhaps an unusual accent, learned from somewhere way off.

Did she know?

Likely not with the way she had been swept into her whirlwind of adventurous joy with the traveling of her snowy counterpart.

I did not…but I am sorry. And it was genuine, even if she may have not had anything to apologize for yet. She was familiar with how it could look to have a loner (let alone a pair) creep next to your territory.

Are you with them or them? Vaguely worded, but her head swung in one direction towards the coast on the first and towards the rise on the second.
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the remorse seems genuine—a mistake had been made. alarm bells waned further in Avicus's mind, and she nods, accepting the apology. though the woman is not alone: there are scents of others upon her pelt, and they are quite recent.

she is appeased, but not at ease.

Avicus once more points her nose to the Rise. buh' 'hey are our ah-lly, she adds, looking back at Sapphique. frien'. no strife between the packs. . .and a mutual obligation to snuff out any threats, too.

why you here? she asks, returning her eyes to the other. she lets her gaze linger upon those chilling pale orbs; the only wolf she recalls seeing with that color—or lack thereof—had been her mother's sister, the enigmatic Averna.

this only heightens her curiosity, and her brow furrows in intrigue. where you go?
but see, amid the mimic rout,
a crawling shape intrude —
a blood-red thing that writhes from out
the scenic solitude
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#7
tag for info/reference <3

Both, she thought the answer was.

Allies, apparently, and Sakhmet suddenly felt choked in the tangle.

Perhaps they should have pushed further in the woods, she would encourage @Kigipigak to move them along quicker. She would abandon her efforts to make this place more hospitable in the meantime, no use if she did not wish to be here — and felt almost certain she could convince the northern man for them to find a new path if they must.

Those pale orbs looked into...indigo. The same indigo of her mother's one eye.

Except not entirely true. Her mother's indigo had never seemed so sharp and shrewd when cast upon Sakhmet.

I was just resting until I found a safe way through here. I want to go further north into the taiga, I won't be here long. Promise.

This whole encounter put an itch in her to move again. Never satisfied with stillness for long.
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Ooc — mercury
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mmm. a brief hum through pursed lips as she regards the ruddy dark wolf, after which Avicus finally deems her not a threat. the woman, at least. her companions? that remained to be seen.

she sucks in a breath, thinking. the eyes are haunting her.

your ma, she says after a few quiet moments, meeting that bone-white gaze. her name Averna?

family. the traveler would be the closest thing she'd have to her mother—in blood—beyond her siblings, and she knows that should the answer be yes, she cannot possibly let that link slip away so easily.
but see, amid the mimic rout,
a crawling shape intrude —
a blood-red thing that writhes from out
the scenic solitude
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#9
Her ma.

She could not help but tighten and prepare for some shellshock situation. As if the odd, fiery autumn woman might spill some sort of secrets. As if the woman knew who she was all along and planned to deliver some sort of words about Maegi.

Instead she was met with an unknown name.

Averna.

No, She breathed out with obviously relief rolling off of her. Her name is...Maegi. Soft spoken like it was her own dear secret. Truthfully, it was the tangle of guilt associated with having left her only parent time and time again.
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#10
the disappointment is clear as day upon her face. Maegi, she repeats, voice dull. your ma Maegi.

but how? Avicus shakes her head. my ma. . .my aunhh. eyehh like you. like moon.

Averna. just like Astara, one of a kind. she wonders if she'll ever see the strange woman again. 

she's lost in these thoughts for a few heartbeats before snapping back to the present. your name? she asks, returning to rigid inquiry.
but see, amid the mimic rout,
a crawling shape intrude —
a blood-red thing that writhes from out
the scenic solitude
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#11
This woman's aunt had eyes like hers.

Like moons.

Her moons stare into the deep indigo of her mother's one eye. No, this autumn woman's eyes.

Sakhmet, It was spoken with little attached to it because she can only think of the other woman's words. Of the colors that stared back at her.

My mother had an eye like yours. She found herself saying quicker than she would have liked. As if they were two school girls who had stumbled upon something forbidden. Quick to exchange whispery gossips.
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Avi, she answers easily, and then she stiffens.

my mother had an eye like yours.

i have my ma eyehh, Avicus says slowly, filling up with an icy sense of grief and trepidation altogether. who is this girl? why do they keep finding commonalities?

she exhales briefly through her nostrils in a quiet snort, trying to play it off. maybe we fami'y, she mutters. but the young Wealda is clearly disturbed, and she paces in a brief circle or two before stopping, shaking her head.

it didn't matter. Astara was dead, and Averna gone. she will never know.

be careful, Avicus says, looking at Sakhmet. if you needh a home, my pack ihh over dhere. another nod toward the rise, and a last, lingering look toward the traveler.

then she was off, gone, fire leaping o'er the gnarled hillocks.
but see, amid the mimic rout,
a crawling shape intrude —
a blood-red thing that writhes from out
the scenic solitude
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#13
closing this, thank you for such a wonderful interaction <3

Avi.

Avi with the aunt of moon eyes and mother of indigo eyes.

Sakhmet was intrigued and concerned in equal amounts. These did not feel like such coincidences as if their eyes were orange or brown. They both held simmering reds (in different shades, but unique all the same) and unusual eyes. Maybe they were family.

She might have pushed for more, but the fiery woman departed with a kind offer. Sakhmet could only get out a soft thank you, before the woman was fire licking the hillside.