Her form remained rigid as she made her way from the Surge. Lachesis’ words rang sharply in her mind, and the flare of anger she felt was not tempered by the fact that had she taken the precaution in informing him of her absence in the first place, she would not be in this situation. His reasons were not unsound – but it did not lessen the sting of hurt that lanced her heart as he turned her away, nor the fact that she held the scars littered upon her flanks in the sign of dedication to her family and pack.

What had the others in his ranks proven?

The only comfort the honeyed she-wolf felt was that she did not want to remain in a place where she was unwanted – and so she moved from the lake, making her way to the west, where she had promised @Deacon she would meet him if her pack forced her away. She had no knowledge if he intended to find her – but at the chance he did, she wasn’t going to push away a welcome and somewhat familiar face. It seemed that neither of them had any plans, now.

As she roamed along the fjord, her pace slower, the she-wolf cast her vivid green eyes to the inky sky, noting that dusk had almost settled, blanketing the world in oncoming darkness. She would rest soon – but her tail swayed with the restlessness of not just her heart, but the itch of her skin and the season.

Tomorrow would be a new day, and she would come up with a plan then.

With her nose close to the ground, the Baranski attempted to seek out a place satisfying to her where she felt she could be safe and at ease. Engrossed in this process, one ear flickered back to the sound of the wood, and allowing her muzzle to tip back, her bright eyes fell upon the familiar form of Deacon.

Dusk continued over them – most notable was the patch of white on his chest as he almost seemed to melt in to the night. It spoke volumes to her, in that moment, where she felt the inner turmoil of her other friend turning her away from his borders. Deacon was as different from Lachesis as night was to day – and for that she was grateful.

“You found me, TDB,” she murmured, a half smile quirking at her lips as she lifted her form to a neutral stance. She paused, studying him – ready to admit that she was glad he had found her, but unable to form that small vulnerability. “Guess that means we both need to form a plan, now,” she murmured, turning to face him.

“How noble,” she responded, her smile only widening. There was something about the dark male that allowed her to relax – he didn’t know her history – not yet, anyhow, and so he didn’t look at her as if she were a fragile china doll. Lekalta Baranski would not break – she had not yet, and she had no intention to.

He asked her what she wanted to do – hinting that whatever it was, they would do so together. She considered his words, a myriad of responses darting through her agile mind. “Hm,” she sighed, feeling her ears pull back and her features softening wistfully. “It’s been awhile since someone asked me that,” she admitted truthfully, though even as she spoke the words they sounded heavy – too heavy, with a guy she just met.

“What I really want,” she decided, her voice hushing as she eyed him stepping closer, then hesitating. She paused, her nose flaring as she considered the reaction of her companion, realizing then that he did so out of respect for her and the season in which they found themselves in. She found it endearing.

She took a swaying step then, an impish grin coiling upon her lips. She had considered pups of her own, but always in passing. Somehow, she had wanted more from life than what her sister had settled for.. She wanted a mate – a pack, a family. She could have ushered these words to the man in front of her – but how much would that terrify him? Instead, she tipped her muzzle up, hesitating to brush it gently to his cheek. “Is to go catch a pheasant or a rabbit to fill my gut.” She paused, blinking at him with feign innocence. “I’m starving.”

He looked at her rather intently – a look she couldn’t recognize if only because the two were very new in one another’s lives. He was tall – hovering over her in a way she found amusing, especially in the way of how seriously he seemed to take everything. He nodded to her, and she withheld from swaying her tail in gentle appreciation – tormenting wasn’t very kind, was it?

And so at what seemed to her to be his acquiescence , she planted a sloppy kiss to his cheek in chipper appreciation. Lachesis might have kicked her out of the pack she had essentially been birthed in, but she would persevere. “Let’s go see what we can rustle up, Mr. Serious,” she quipped, turning then and beginning to traverse the expanse of the fjord.

With her nose drifting down every so often to see if she could capture the trail or scent of something, she cast her bright eyes to him, canting her muzzle slightly in his direction. “So.. You’ve never been this far north in Relic Lore, before? Where are you from, then?”

He padded after her, and she slowed her pace, sidling up along his side. She didn’t know if he scented her or not – but she wished to be careful. Peridot eyes landed upon him as he spoke, though he didn’t go in depth in anything, which was fair enough. She had never been to Drooping Willows – her parents had been around the area prior to her birth, but she had never been privy to what had happened, aside from the Grizzly Hollow wolves.

“I was born in Hearthwood River,” she replied, considering how far to delve in to it. “I’ve left and returned, though,” she noted, her smile tightening at the thought. “I’ve never really explored much of Relic Lore, though. Have you? What else is out there?” Her hunger went to the wayside for the moment, though she continued to track – finding nothing. Two wolves was better than a sole lone wolf, but it didn’t mean meals would be easier to come by.