Felltree Marsh Vann

For @Vespira - I hope this is alright for a location! ^^

The pale wolf had crossed many miles to journey west. She had circled around a mountain area that reeked of wolves. None of them smelled like her kin, but Eventyr did not want to risk a run-in with someone who might have spoken to her sister. She had traveled a great distance, but it had not been far enough to shake the feeling that she was being followed. It did not settle well in the pit of her stomach.

When Eventyr had drawn near enough, she believed that she could smell the ocean. She wished to see it, though she wasn’t sure how long she would have to stay there. Hoping that she might find a dark stone cliffside that overlooked the sea was a thought that hung upon her mind as she trekked through the marshland.

The white wolf paused to sniff the earth at her paws. There were other wolves there, but she could not sense how close. Their smell was mingled too deeply with the terrain. Eventyr lifted her head to search the area.

As she always had, Vespira walked leisurely, poised; light as a feather, just like the bird fluttering within her soul and heart. There had been much to take in, thus far. Alike her body, the silvery hue of her eyes danced, floating over what spectacles she could make of the terrain and the creatures that were bound to its floor. 
The birds did not follow her, nor did the new ones continue with song. She was alone, marching to her own hum. It felt lonesome, having no choir to echo your tune. One thing she'd always admired about those feathered critters — it was rare they left you solo. But as the light grew dim, most would flitter off to their nests and to their young, preparing for the wake of the sun the following morn. She should have done the same, but how could she? It was an endless maze, the world. If to stop now, how could she be sure that a sanction would be found? No, she must continue on, regardless of what exhaustion or hunger pangs tugged at her frail, lithe body. The world never stopped, so why should she?

The white figure paused in her trek, eyes fixed on the flickering of movement in the corner of her vision. It was fortunate that the other wolf carried a coat with pale hues. If there had been a wolf clothed in the dark fur of a Svartravn, Eventyr feared that she would never have known. A glimmer of curiosity sparked within her moon silver gaze. The woman moved on long legs toward the other – the unknown figure.

Drawing within a distance that was close enough to hear, the pale wolf regarded the other with a curious stare. The figure of the wolf was simple. She was marked by pale creams and ash. Not wholly unworthy in the eyes of her people, but not someone who would find respect by their most wary. Eventyr thought the other wolf fascinating.

She chuffed, announcing herself to the stranger.

Hilsen deg, she spoke in her native tongue.

Too entranced by the song echoing through her mind, the presence of another had no been noticed. It was only the voice that made aware. Vespira snapped from her daze upon it's sound, muzzle lifting to settle in the direction of the white cloak. With slow thoughts, it took a moment to learn the language of which the stranger spoke. But eventually the tongue was recognized. Fortunately, it was one she knew.

Og til deg, den hvite. The milky, tan woman spoke with soothing confidence, not allowing an intimidating size to throw her off balance. She was no all that much shorter, but definitely so. 

Bor du et sted i nærheten? Then she was curious, wondering if perhaps she'd stepped unto claimed territory. Nothing had been detected thus far, but it could have been marked a mile off and she'd missed it.

The pale-coat was pleased that this one spoke her tongue. It meant that she would not be forced to babble through the common man’s language. She spoke with more confidence in her native language, anyway. Eventyr cast a thin smile to the stranger, dipping her snout slightly.

Her size was not meant to be an intimidator, not unless it was necessary. It seemed that the pale Kvitravn had more of a penchant for fleeing from conflict than she did in seeing it through. The length of her pale limbs and the sturdiness of her figure was more a visual deterrence than anything else. There was little concern that her weight would be thrown.

Hjemmet mitt er langt unna. Disse landene er nye for meg.

Eventyr drew a little closer to the cream-coated stranger.

Reiser du sammen med andre?

Her home was far. So then, they were quite alike — in more ways than one.
Jeg reiser alene, foreløpig. Men jeg håper å finne en løsning snart. Det er en påstand jeg ønsker å fremsette... men jeg er ikke sikker på hvor. She had given a bit more information than what may have been necessary, but perhaps this wolf would be interested in what further she had to share. After all, she would need help to build this claim/
Reiser du alene? She asked in return, now curious of whether the white one was alone, or had friends or family nearby.