The mountain was as unforgiving as they remembered, piles of snow and ice, blown into miniature storms that whipped their face with painful stings. To most wolves, it surely must seem a God’s forsaken place, but not to the witch. In fact, they had never felt closer to the higher power guiding them than they did on the peak – the brutality of its nature a mirror of The God’s cold, unforgiving authority. It would take time and effort, carving out a life here, but the one-eyed prophet was determined to do so, or die trying.

Walking along the perilous mountain roads, paying careful attention to where they put every paw, Apolline had no particular destination, simply letting impulse guide their path. Pareyl’s pack had yet to fully take form, as he awaited the right moment for their first sacrifice, and the witch eagerly awaited The God’s sign, spending hours wandering like this, turning over their recent dreams, searching for meaning.

One figure that had been recurrent lately, was a pale wolf of small stature, their face always obscured yet something about them made Apolline feel safe and peaceful. Whatever it meant, they were sure it was a message from The God – and so, when the winding trails let them down into a protected dip between two peaks and they caught sight of a white wolf up ahead, they felt their heart jump into their throat.

Without pause, the prophet hurried forwards, single eye narrowed against the whirling snow; This is it! Whoever this pale figure was, whatever it was, it was meant for Apolline.

Thoughts ”Speech”

As the witch rushed ahead, a snowy whirl enveloped the white wolf, obscuring the already translucent silhouette. Just before it vanished entirely in the flurry, the figure suddenly looked up from where it had been working at the ground, seeming to meet Apolline’s gaze for a second, winking one pale brown eye. Then it was gone, become one with the storm around them.

Still, the witch did not stop moving until they were right on top of where the snow-wolf had been, intensely focused on the snow, though it appeared untouched. They only looked up when the erratic winds brought the scent of someone else to their nostrils, herd jerking up to turn that same, intense gaze on the yearling; Cynder… Quiet and reclusive, but nevertheless one of the God’s chosen, through Paeryl, and Felyx’s sister which earned her further grace in the witch’s eye.

“Did you see that?” they called, golden-brown eye narrowing at the girl; Was it real…? Apolline had never had a waking vision before, and yet, they were starting to feel that tingle at the back of their mind. If anything had ever seemed like a message from the God, this did, and even as they awaited the answer, the witch’s attention returned to their feet. “I think she was digging…” they mumbled to themselves, scraping probingly at the frozen ground; Could something be buried here? Something sacred.

Thoughts ”Speech”

The witch’s heartbeat was speeding up in their chest, breathing becoming faster too as every sense opened to their surroundings, taking in the mountain until it filled their every fiber. The tingling in their mind became ever more present, even as their intention was distracted by Cynder’s arrival.

The yearling’s face, usually so carefully folded into sullen indifference, stared in obvious astonishment for a moment, before she seemed to shake herself out of it. But the brief awe was all Apolline needed to confirm their conviction; A vision! The god of the mountain had sent them a vision, and it had to mean something important!

Turning their attention back to the marked spot, the witch barely registered Cynder’s approach, nor her question. Apolline studied the snow carefully, golden gaze tracing every inch, looking for signs. “A messenger…” They murmured, to themselves as much as in answer to the russet girl, now standing at their side. The pale wolf had been haunting the prophets dreams for days, trying to lead them to something; it has to be here…! Finally looking back to the russet girl, eye now opened wide and intense, the witch announced fervently: “We must dig!”

Thoughts ”Speech”

Every hair on the witch’s body stood on end, tail sticking straight out behind them and ears pointed. Single, seeing eye stared, unwavering, at Cynder, its blind partner seeming to do the same, and their breathing was quick and shallow. It was like their every fiber was poised, waiting for what came next - whatever was about to happen was of utmost significance, they were sure.

The younger girl’s reaction, though unexpected, did little to unsettle Apolline’s fervor, the threat rolling right off their back like rain. They remained still, not a whisker moving until Cynder visibly relaxed, only then did one corner of the witch’s mouth lift in the shadow of a smile. “If The God wills it, I am happy to make the sacrifice,” they said, just a touch of sarcasm lacing their voice – though it was the truth, they rather preferred it didn’t happen, at least just then; “But right now, I do believe our goal is buried underneath this snow, or are you denying that you saw the white wolf too?” One brow cocked pointedly, gaze never leaving the tawny yearling, though their tail had swept down into a less challenging position, swaying in an almost teasing manner; What will it be?

Thoughts ”Speech”