Overture Downs Oh, misty eye of the mountain below
Hushed Willows
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#1
All Welcome 
She ran until the dull ache in her legs made her stop, long after she escaped that wretched place with all those trees. The girl felt better out here in the open, but not by much. The strange pale dusting that had marked the trees was here, too. And there was a lot more of it. It was bright and it stung her paws, and it made everything terribly cold. Even the plants looked dead under the layers of white.
But she grew curious, after awhile. When she pressed her paws to one spot for too long, it turned sort of watery. It was melting!
So that was how she discovered that it was a sort of water. A strange, cold sort of water, but that made her feel a little better about it anyway. Eventually she felt brave enough to eat some, and it was almost like drinking water, but more painful. She decided she preferred river water, but this would work in an emergency.
The girl settled down and prepared to while away the hours playing with the strange white water. Anything to avoid thinking about what had happened with those other wolves and their trees.
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#2
bjarna spotted her. a girl. beautiful and golden.

the colors of the sun! here among the cold. it enchanted her and so she could not stay away. already she was prepared to meet a language barrier once more.

each time it got easier. in the sense that she did not mind having to help others with her tongue. perhaps she would teach it more, sometime. when things softly settled. when the cold did not seem to threaten everybody unlike it energized her.

hallo! she called out, warm and bubbly.

i held an atlas in my lap
ran my fingers across the whole world
and whispered
where does it hurt?
note: bjarna speaks broken english at best.
icelandic will be italicized with translations on hover/click.
Hushed Willows
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#3
If it was water, surely it was a gift from Mother Rain. If it had come from her, it couldn't be anything else; even if it seemed scary, even if it felt wrong. She had to trust the Mother. The girl pushed the strange water around with her paws a little more, lost in her own world.
Hallo!
She jumped. A young girl, a pale girl — where had she come from? Her face... oh, by the Mother, her face, what had happened to it? Certain she was witness to the aftermath of some horrible accident, she felt herself falling into old habits. Bedside manner was important for a healer. She wasn't going to be a healer anymore, and she had never been more than an apprentice anyway, but some part of her remembered and refused to let go.
She hid her horror without missing a beat, and smiled at the young, disfigured wolf. Hello, She got to her feet slowly, having never interacted with a child aside from her own littermates in their early youth. For some reason, she couldn't remember anything from her childhood that would be useful now. She would have thought that being a child not that long ago would help her here, but it didn't. Not one bit.
All she knew for sure was that she would have to play the part of an adult in this interaction, and she didn't want to. She didn't feel like an adult. She felt scared and helpless and stupid. That was how the other wolves had treated her, back in the place with all the trees. Like she was stupid. Maybe she was, but she couldn't have that crisis right now. Not in front of a kid.
What's your name? She would start simple. Find out if the girl had someone nearby, a parent or an older sibling. Then she would get her back where she belonged, if she could, because what else could she do after finding a kid wandering around? She was so tiny and frail, the blonde girl had no way of realizing that the child was quite a bit older than her estimation.
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#4
i am in love with reverie already

her tail swayed, missing how the girl may have been startled. truthfully missing everything! bjarna lived in blissful obliviousness. only happy to meet another friendly face. so close to home too!

this one, as expected, spoke that unfamiliar tongue too.

but if all experiences before with strangers had taught her anything. it was that names often times came first. like with croo.

softly she tapped at her own chest with an oversized paw she'd never grow into.

bjarna. her limp tail swayed behind her. kvarsheim.

she gestured to the place with the tall stones and woods, to their south.

i held an atlas in my lap
ran my fingers across the whole world
and whispered
where does it hurt?
note: bjarna speaks broken english at best.
icelandic will be italicized with translations on hover/click.
Hushed Willows
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#5
Thank you!! I love Bjarna as well, she's so cute.
Bjarna. Kvarsheim. It sounded like nonsense, and if not for the pointed pause, she might have melded and mangled the two words into one. Bjarna was very deliberate with her speech and her gestures, however. The blonde girl's estimation of her age shifted up by several months as she tried to decipher this information. She knew from her father that wolves existed who spoke differently than she did. He called it languages. She had never heard words like this before, so she assumed that Bjarna spoke in languages. Or something like that.
But if that was true, how did Bjarna know that she had asked for her name? She had gestured to herself, but then she had pointed at... something. The girl peered in that direction, utterly baffled. Then she looked back at the pale adolescent. She was Bjarna, that much seemed clear despite the breaks in logic. But who was Kvarsheim? Or... what?
It was a start toward getting her home, at least. Whether it was a person or a place or something else entirely, it was something familiar to the disfigured girl. But now Bjarna struck her as older, more capable than she had initially thought, and the girl in the reverie was at a loss. She probably didn't need help after all.
Kvarsheim? She echoed anyway, feeling more foolish than ever and hoping to cover the feeling up with her own curiosity.
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#6
bjarna exhibited a grand sense of joy at this. her home name had been said back! it was a very good start to things, she liked to think.

heim, ja. she nodded her head enthusiastically. once more she gestured, with her muzzle now, back towards where she had come from. her limp tail offered soft sways behind her.

now she looked back to the golden girl with a shining brilliance in her gaze.

enchanted by one who was not of earth or snow but of sun! golden, bright, beautiful. she wondered how far that went into her spirit as well.

bjarna halp? she asked with a doggish tilt of her head, short bear-like ears sat upright upon her head.

i held an atlas in my lap
ran my fingers across the whole world
and whispered
where does it hurt?
note: bjarna speaks broken english at best.
icelandic will be italicized with translations on hover/click.
Hushed Willows
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#7
More nonsense, but this time she was confident that it was meant to be words. She just couldn't understand. Something Bjarna said sounded familiar, though. Almost like a word she knew.
Halp? Do you mean help? She questioned quietly, a little shamed by the possibility alone. Did she really look as lost as she felt? It was sweet, though, offering help to a stranger. It was something Rose would have done.
Rose. She would have loved to meet this strange wolf; she had always loved new experiences and new people. It was what the girl had loved about her. It was what Father Fire had hated about her. Her gaze drifted, as if Bjarna had ceased to exist.
She should be here. Rose had wanted this more than anyone. She would have known what to do, what to say to those wolves under the trees. She would have handled Bjarna's languages with grace. And she would have been happy, something the lost girl had seemingly forgotten how to do.
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#8
ah!

sunny bear continued to repeat the words bjarna said. bjarna continued to exhibit her joy with this. a smile on her shortened face, limp tail continued its waving.

it felt good to have somebody mimic her words for once.

ja, ja! her head nodded up and down. halp, help, it was the same. this she knew. it was merely morphed by the way she spoke more and more icelandic these days.

bjarna help. stressing the way the woman had said it proper.

still she had not tapped into the wayward look of the golden woman.

i held an atlas in my lap
ran my fingers across the whole world
and whispered
where does it hurt?
note: bjarna speaks broken english at best.
icelandic will be italicized with translations on hover/click.
Hushed Willows
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#9
Hey, sis! Need some help?
It was Rose, peering through the bushes that surrounded the patch of herbs to beam at her. The girl was hunched over the torn pieces of the plant she had been told to strip and prepare for their next journey, trying to recall which pieces she was supposed to keep and which were meant to be discarded. Her frown dissolved into a relieved giggle at the sight of her older sister.
Yeah. I can never remember which parts we use... they all look the same when they're dried!
Rose laughed as she pushed through the bushes to stand at her side. The brush of her pelt was unexpectedly cold. The girl startled, head turning to examine her sister incredulously.
No one was there.
Rose...? She looked around in mute terror. This wasn't home. And Rose, she was gone, she couldn't be gone...
She realized she was crying, but suddenly she felt nothing. No, she felt tired. Or maybe just... heavy? Where was she? Did it matter? Rose was gone.
Nothing mattered.
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#10
and something changed.

that wayward look become more and then it was teary. had bjarna offended?

or perhaps this was like the other girl, who had lost and become sad by it. the one she now called systir. once more bjarna felt a well of emotions bubble up for this golden girl. this time matching the mood that had overcome her.

gently she moved a bit closer, wondering if she may offer herself as support.

bjarna help... she cooed, softer and warmer, hoping the other girl would accept.

i held an atlas in my lap
ran my fingers across the whole world
and whispered
where does it hurt?
note: bjarna speaks broken english at best.
icelandic will be italicized with translations on hover/click.
Hushed Willows
Dancing Queen
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Ooc — xynien
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#11
It slowly dawned on her that she was not alone, but the realization remained distant and somewhat fuzzy. It didn't seem as pressing as it should have. She stared at Bjarna, uncomprehending.
What's happening to me?
It was the same thing that always happened, but she didn't know that right now. She felt dizzy and disconnected, like the world had tilted to one side and only she remained upright. When Bjarna moved closer, she didn't react. She wouldn't for some time. She wouldn't speak either, but she would mutely follow the pale wolf's direction if prompted.
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#12
happy to make a follow up <3

yes, bjarna would help this one too.

perhaps it was not the vision her mother had for kvarsheim, but had bjarna not been taught such a lesson recently? to help others, to never be alone again with the family built.

she could give that others.

kvarsheim. she offered softly, but this time she intended to lead the suddenly somber sun woman there. to find safety and solitude until they could find a way to speak more.

i held an atlas in my lap
ran my fingers across the whole world
and whispered
where does it hurt?
note: bjarna speaks broken english at best.
icelandic will be italicized with translations on hover/click.
Hushed Willows
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#13
That would be great <3
Kvarsheim. It reached her on some level, through the haze of grief and confusion. She nodded, grasping fragments of thoughts and clinging to them for stability. Bjarna. This was Bjarna, and she would help, even though the girl had thought that she had been the one who needed help at first. She was a friend. A new friend. Rose would have been thrilled.
She held these thoughts around her like an old and fraying blanket. A flimsy shield against the cold, but it was all she had.
Watching me is like watching a fire take your eyes from you