April 14th | Late Afternoon/ Early Evening | Storm Coming | @Anouke

Following the days of her meeting with the ebone male of the Thicket, the wanderer had made good on her promise and remained out of the way of the pack. In the days to follow, she slept late into the day to converse her energy and never strayed too far from the sheltering roots of the tree unless it was to take care of nature’s call, or attempt to snag a morsel of some kind. She had had a mind to wander a little ways from the tree, perhaps sneak a glance at the Thicket in an effort to see another soul and observe their tolerance of the hellish wood.

But the day she felt inclined to withdraw from her shelter, was the day in which the blue of the skies receded, and in its place were dark clouds growing heavy with the heaven’s fury. The bellow of thunder was surely the first of many to come, raising the female’s ears to heed its warning as she turned her bold steps toward her shelter before the downpour. Had she looked behind, she might have witnessed the leading curtain of rain spilling over the fields as the clouds drifted forward. But her eyes were ahead, focused on her shelter. And with a little bound, she was within its confines again, slipping deeper into the earth by a hole she had dug. She curled herself within her warm hollow, looking outward as the sheet slipped overhead and drenched the tree with its might. Her nose wrinkly slightly to the musky smell of the rainwater, but found that in time it gave way to a clean smell; perhaps the only pleasantness to be found in the midst of the coming storm. The rain had begun, but the dark clouds rising over the hill made it clear-

-the worst had yet to come, but would surely be near.

The Young Hellion had been lounging around in the Blackberry Fields – feeling the grass upon his legs, the wind rushing by his face, numerous scents assaulting his nostrils – when the storm hit. Clouds roiled up above his large, bulky form in the once-blue sky, but which had now turned to a dark, stormy grey. Within a few minutes, rain poured down upon the ground like a hammer pounding on a forge, and minutes after that, lightning began to flash blindingly white in the sky, accompanied by the growling rumbles of thunder. Lifting up his dark muzzle, Anouke howled out to the heavens, just as another splintered flash lit up the sky, and moments later a rumbling growl met his ears, as if crying out with him. His drawn-out howl lasted for a bit more than a few seconds, before it faded away, and everything went quiet for a few seconds. Whenever there was a storm, he cried out his sadness and grief, as it reminded him of the day his family had been slaughtered. At least, all but him and his beloved sister, Neith.

The rain soaked into his dark fur, almost doubling his weight, but shaking out his coat didn’t help, as the rain was continuous and didn’t let up for even a moment. Bright amber eyes scanning the fields, he caught sight of the tree, and the memory of the tri-coloured female was brought to mind again. He had scented her around but didn’t bother to investigate until she had made her choice. But now with the storm raging on, he felt the need for company, but being around normal wolves was irritating, and the female had seemed more like him. He didn’t exactly crave being around her, but at the same time, didn’t mind it at all.

Padding in the direction of the lobe tree, he quickly came upon it, and carefully made his way up the hill as to not slip and fall on the wet grass, especially not like last time. Standing roughly 2 feet away from the roots, slightly to the side, his eyes perceived a wolf shape among them, and the glint of eyes as the lightning periodically flashed in the sky. Shaking his head to clear his eyes of water momentarily, a smirk lifted up the corners of his lips, and he half-shouted out to the female. “Mind if I join you?”

As was to be expected, the conditions of the storm did worsen with time, draping a dark air across the fields as the winds whipped in relentless fashion. Her tree of sanctuary twisted and groaned as the wind took hold of it, but its roots were deep and it bark was strong and healthy. It would not bend to the likeness of this storm.

The heavy canopy of the tree provided a second form of shelter beneath its stretching branches. Though droplets trickled in, it was not enough to wholly dampen her shelter, but its run-off did provide a small basin of water for her to sip from time to time. The beast was oddly comfortable amidst the chaos that raged beyond the wide roots. And while might have feared the claps of thunder and flashes of light, her eyes beheld them with awe for the ferocity of nature. And such beauty it portrayed… such hope for something more. If luck was in her favor, perhaps some fodder would fall prey to the storm and be waiting. The female could only hope, but they were certainly high.

Watching the rain whip to the erratic rhythm of the bustled wind, she caught sight of something moving within the darkening sheets. The figure itself was dark in hue, making it never difficult to separate what was living and what was darkness. Yet the spots of white at its feet sparked a light of recognition in her amber-umber eyes, more so once the shape came nearer and she was able to spy the striking white of its leg now drenched with rain. K’arnae raised her head in intrigue but did not speak. Her brows were knitted with the surprise in seeing this male again and of course, so soon.

Her ears cupped forward, straining to catch his voice over the roar of the storm. By what few words she could gather, she could comprehend his want and inched a comfortable distance over in her hole to offer her company some space. Though before he came too near, she motioned with her muzzle to his dripping form and shouted above the rain as best as she was able. “…ake!...Shake!” Bringing in that much rainwater into the shelter would have done neither of them any good.

As he stood there in the rain, mere feet away from shelter – not that he needed it as he was perfectly fine in the rain, but for other wolves shelter was always the first option – his bright amber eyes picked up the movement of the raising of the female’s golden creamy head to, possibly, get a better look at him. Her ears swiveled to face him as he partially yelled out through the rain to her, and he saw the motioning of her muzzle towards him, before shouting out something along the lines of ‘shake’.

Stepping back a few steps, the Young Hellion shook out his dark pelt, water sprayed all around him in almost a waterfall, and before the rain could waterlog his fur again, he darted into the roots of the tree, which had also been dug out a bit more so it was roomier. The tri-coloured female just continued to surprise him with her intellect and actions. Every time she seemed more like him than the other ignorant wolves in the world, and he could see her usefulness easily. She was a perfect wolf to join him and the dark she-wolf, but they needed just one more…

Lying down sphinxlike, Anouke turned his eyes onto the female in the slightly dug out hole within the roots of the large tree, its thick branches providing an awning above to keep out most of the rain, but droplets still managed to get through, and slid down the tree trunk to create a small basin of water. Lips twitching up into a slight…smirk, as he never smiled, he glanced out at the clouds above. “I must say, it is quite a storm,” he spoke softly and smoothly, only just loud enough to be heard in the minute of silence that stretched on until a flash of lightning lit up the sky and a rumbling growl was heard. He did not need to speak louder than necessary, or more words than he needed. He was a wolf of only doing or saying things that were crucial to survival, or which needed to be done or spoken. Nothing more, nothing less.

Sharing shelter when it was in need was quite different than sharing a meal to the wanderer. Where meat could be fought over due to its importance to the body, she felt no need for the same resistance when it came to shelter as long as there was enough space to offer. Her own request was that the elements not be brought into the warm hideaway. And in compliance with her request, her dark clad neighbor shook himself of the weather’s wrath and came to join her in the warm refuge.

It certainly was a storm, though she felt no need to audibly agree. Wasting breath would have done nothing but tire her further, and already her reserves for energy were near depleted. Had something more come for the prospect of conversation, she might have obliged him with reply, though her mind had not yet formulated a bit of sentient thought to share. Rather it was used to digest the situation at hand; the storm outside their would-be shelter and the company she had now taken within it. But was this male not a part of the Thicket group? Why was he not within their shelter hiding away from the whipping wind and the pelting rain?

Gradually, she came into the mind to inquire, but of course thought better of it in favor of the perpetual, comfortable silence that surrounded the dyad. It had been a long while since the last time she could rest comfortably in the presence of another.

Rolling slightly to her side, she let her forelegs stretch outward and her width digits splay, feeling the tiny droplets of rain as they maneuvered through the leaves of their shelter. Her eyes were heavy with fatigue though her body did not yet slump with the intent to sleep. With stout ears perked forward, she retained her awareness, occasionally sharing a glance with the male beside her.

The tri-coloured female stayed silent as Anouke slipped into the shelter from the raging storm outside, and continued to stay silent as he commented about the freak rainstorm outside. Not that he minded her silence, no, in fact he partially enjoyed it. For over half his life he had been around wolves whom could never stop talking about mindless things that didn’t need to be said, when instead they could save their breath and words for more crucial purposes. The only reason he had remarked about the weather was from almost two years of habit, and also to see if she would pass a slight test, not that she needed to, but it raised his thoughts about her into the ‘good’ spectrum.

Bright amber eyes detected movement from the female, and glancing towards her body, he watched as she rolled slightly onto her side, forelegs stretching outwards, though her ears were still perked forward. Comfortable in the position he was in, the Young Hellion rested his dark head on his large isabelline paws, staring out into the pelting rain outside, though sporadically looking over towards the female next to him. He did not know her name, but he didn’t need to. Names weren’t a necessity for survival, and if anything was not crucial to furthering his goal of living until the next day, he did not bother, unless if there was a job to do, or he felt like playing with the minds of the pitiful wolves in the world. Those that did not understand his ways, nor would they ever. Their minds could not comprehend it, and so he never bothered with explaining, especially since they should know if they were like him.

It was only then that the Young Hellion realized she did not carry the scent of the Secret Woodlands wolves. Eyebrows raising infinitesimally at his reasonable discovery, he glanced towards her again, this time staring for a few seconds. Maybe she hadn’t made up her mind on whether to join, but whatever reason she had, he would not question and break the… comfortable silence between them. It was almost peaceful, in a way, being in the company of a wolf who did not feel the need to share pointless words. At that moment was when he confirmed the thought that she could be ever useful to him and the dark she-wolf, but he would only propose his plans to her when the time was right. And right then during the storm, it was far from then.

The words that need be spoken came from what nature could provide. And even then, it was a terribly warbling of incoherent vowels. At times a pause would fall upon the storm, the rain lightening some to allow the lighter of clouds to pass with ease. Then their darker counterparts would again dominate the skies bringing thunder and torrential rains in their wake, painting the world in darkness as the air was consumed by the thickening sheets. It was a terrible splendor of nature she was never tired of witnessing. But only from a distance, never drenched in the sheets she cared to admire.

Whilst in ease, she turned her muzzle toward her silent companion then let her eyes still alit with life drift to a corner of the makeshift den. An odd tuff of fur caught the woman’s eye, reminder her that there was something from the day prior still kept. Curling over slightly, and in effect brushing lightly against her company in movement, she took hold of the tuff and brought it into the waning light. It was nothing of impress, a small belly from a severed weasel. Thin, but gifted with the meat she needed. Taking meager bites, she tore through its tattered hide and made quick work of its innards, save for a few slivers of meat.

The remainder of which went untouched as she inched the carcass over to the dark male with a paw. Surely a pack wolf ate more than a wanderer, but with the time they had until the rains at least lessened, she was inclined to play host at least for the moment. After all, were it not for his direction, she might not have found the shelter to weather the storm.

The Young Hellion was not sure how long they lay there, in the silence that wrapped around the [word[dyad[/word], but it felt comfortable, and he was at ease for the first time in over half of his entire life span. It wasn’t often that he met wolves like him, who did not have to speak and move around like a child. Sometimes one just need peace and quiet, but also being near another. Being alone was perfectly fine, but for long periods of time one tended to pine for the company of another wolf. He was a pack wolf after all, but it also depended on the type of wolves he was around.

At the slight feeling of another body brushing against his, Anouke lifted his dark head from his large isabelline paws, looking to the side to find his companion gently grasping a tuft of fur in her powerful jaws. He hadn’t noticed it before, nor had he scented it, maybe it was because her scent filled the shelter, but he guessed that that was the plan, so if another wolf did investigate they wouldn’t have noticed the small morsel in the back, slightly hidden.

Bright amber eyes watched lazily as the tri-coloured female tore through the morsel, save for a few slivers of meat. Ears pricking as she pushed over the remainder of her meal with a single paw, he gratefully canted his head. It was awfully kind for her to play host and give him a part of her meal, when he could see she was in more need of the sustenance it could provide than him. But as he was a wolf who never turned down an opportunity or gift when it presented itself, he glanced up at the female. There was no need to speak his thanks, as it would be easily told from his body gestures.

Eating his gift in a few bites, savoring the taste of meat, Anouke, the corners of his lips twitching up into the beginnings of a smile, but not quite. He hadn’t smiled since that day, and unless if something drastically changed his perception on himself and the world, he never would. Sighing softly, he rolled onto his side, legs slightly stretched out at thirty-degree angles, head resting on the dirt, and eyes looking out at the storm outside. Half-closing his eyes, he lay there, listening to the rumblings of thunder and the soft breathing of his companion.

Given her disheveled state, the female imagined it was not difficult to agnize her hungered state, but she was appreciative that the male took her kindly gesture without complaint. Food was precious, especially to a wanderer and she did not offer it without purpose; not without kind intention. Her ears bent slightly forward to the sounds of his feeding, flicking more towards her crown only when a crack of thunder resonated throughout the field. The worst of the storm was near upon them, one could sense by the shift and pelt of the wind and rain. And soon the eye of the calm would be upon them, allowing a brief moment of mobility before the tail-end encompassed the field.

It was this time that the female waited for, when the pause might bright the bolder fodder from their hiding and allow the scavengers to pick from the bones of the fallen. It was inevitable, as if nature itself had been attempting to hunt. But the force was wasteful and turbulent in its methods; covering trails and downing branches and leaves to cover and leading path. But in the end, however boisterous its methods, it never failed to take some form of life; either large or small.

Quietly the woman sighed as she waited for the weather to turn more favorable. The feel of the day would tell of the late hour, however dark the skies to lead one to believe the same. It was nearing the time for all pack wolves to seek the comfort of their dens and brethren. And though she had none to run to, the instinct was there. And for the countless time since her travels, she ignored it in favor of her solitude. But for once she was glad, however passive her expression and heavily weighed her eyes, that she needed endure the fall of day alone. At least for a moment til the internal call of belonging pulled him from her to the Thicket. Until that time, she basked in the warmth of the shelter and drank deeply the scent of her company with every quiet breath.

The worst of the storm was near upon them, but soon after the eye of the storm would take over, calming everything down and silencing the lightning and thunder, but as always, it would pass, leaving the tail of the storm in its wake, and resuming the storm until it fully passed. During the calm time in the middle, creatures will come out of their hiding spots or shelters and scavenge from the bodies of the fallen, before slinking back to where they came from, hiding as the storm resumed its prowess in ridding the world of those that did not need to survive. It was quite fascinating to watch it all unfold, but that was only because he was like a storm himself, though others would not see the resemblance. Which was sad really, as they should.

Normally one would have been uncomfortable in the silence between the two wolves, but he felt it calming, not having to speak, just being around one. That was his way of relaxing. Words were not crucial for survival, but company was. Even though he thought of himself as a traveler, being around other wolves was still alluring to him, as with all wolves. They could not function alone, nor would most choose to. But the company he chose to be around was very selective, and the tri-coloured fae currently in the shelter with him had passed with flying colours, and whether she knew it or not, he thought of her as an ally, but not a friend. No, he had no friends and he never would, even with wolves such as himself. To tie himself like that to another was useless, as it did not mean that they would help one in situations where they were needed. But an ally meant they could complete tasks much more easily and efficiently. It was easily seen which he would choose to have.

Usually the Young Hellion would have left the shelter where he would return to the den site in search of a den that was unoccupied, but why be alone where others could bother him when he could be in a comfortable silence with his newfound ally? Glancing to her, he saw that she was relaxing as he was, not eager to move or break the silence. Sighing softly, Anouke closed his eyes, relaxing fully in the presence and scent of her, slowly drifting off to sleep. Unless she wished him to leave, he would stay with her within the shelter until dawn, where he would scavenge the bodies of the fallen, and from there the boring daily duties of a pack wolf.