Swift River sucker love I always find

February 5th; Midnight; Freezing fog; 11 ° F, -11 ° C.

The family had been taking some time to grieve. Candidly, it did not bother Skoll Archer in the slightest, seeing as he was active in the hours when most of them were asleep. Seeking out some time for himself, to vent and, perhaps, grieve in his own ways, he headed north. He went as far as to find the Swift River and crossed it where it ran thin, almost frozen solid with ice between the river stones. The boughs above creaked with the winter winds but the prince paid them no mind. They did not know him. For all they knew, nature spirits or otherwise, he posed no threat and he merely sought their company to be relieved of the wariness the Drooping Willows often subjected him to in the night.

Through the fog, he kept his head low, breathing loudly and panting as he went as he forced his frame of lean muscle and sinew to keep going. The more he walked, the better he thought, and the more he thought, the more he clarified in his head that he was not responsible for his sister Isolde's death. There was just no way; he had not even known that she had set out on an adventure on her own.

After sometime, at some nugatory muddy old den site, where a flood had reclaimed the hollowed earth, he paused. The fox tracks in the snow told of the area being recently inhabited but it was clear to the wolf that the vulpine scent that lingered had grown stale over a matter of weeks. The dark prince collapsed onto the ground, curling up in the small depression that had once been the hideaway's entrance. He touched his nose to the tip of his stark black tail, knowing all too well that the Sand Wolf would not pay him a visit no matter how much he longed for sleep.

i'm a dreamer, i'm a man

i'm doing whatever i can to make the bad things go away

Today I'm not myself

The weeks had been spent aimlessly wandering. There was no place she wanted nor needed to be. Would anyone really take a loner in now? She still had little knowledge of the packs on this side, quite wary she kept away from their scents. She didn't need to be accused of trespassing or stealing. Ideally she would have stayed at the Plateau, but it was just as sad a place as the Glen if not more terrible now. Ears folded back, as her stride quickened. After the burial of her father she did not plan to visit that place for a long time. No, she wanted to snap out of this dark void.  She didn't know how, she didn't know where to start.

Takis' words still sharply sounded in her head and her heart. All he had spoken about Erebos and Aponi, what he had seen. She could not decide if his blame was rightfully placed so she didn't have the heart to follow him. She surely wasn't about to find her uncle or Aponi.  Maybe it was better this way. Cut herself off from everything she knew. Even if she was sick of all this starting over.

With the promise of water she headed in that direction thinking it might be a wise place to remain for a time. Upon meeting the river she navigated the frozen parts with ease going deeper into the freezing fog. Her nostrils quivered, testing the air. These lands had long been abandoned, and she padded onward through the night. With little purpose there was no reason not to keep wandering. See if she might be lucky to find something. Usually it was an opportune time to catch prey, and she kept a sharp eye out just in case. So far there was little to see, but white haze and the dark outlines of trees in the distance. Once and awhile the chill of the fog caused her teeth to clatter together. Annoyed, she would clamp her jaws tight to still them. It was cold, but her coat was sufficient in keeping it from her skin and the pretense of weakness bothered her.

When he had thought that he might linger for yet another night without any company to keep, his ears perked at the sound of shuffling feet over the ice. He sat up at first, his head tilting at the sound of chattering teeth. Usually, only squirrels did that; crows and magpies clicked their beaks but there was no mistaking the sound for anything else. He was about to figuratively have another wolf on his hands - or something else that was canine or vulpine. The first thought that came to mind, he imagined having a bright red fox tail to bring home to Hecate; on a second one, he thought back to his plan when he had first met Ayla in the Marsh.

His white-furred lips pursed and he meandered back to where he had come from, weaving in and out of the wisps of fog as though he had been born from its very depths. With his head low and tail relaxed, he eyed the tawny woman, offering a soft bark in a wordless salutation. A real good look at her and a quick sweep of the information that her signature scent brought him, he knew that she was about his age and had, perhaps,  belonged to no one but the wilderness of the Lore. He considered doing his whole 'nice guy shtick' again, if only to entertain the idea that he could possibly obtain an Archer child from her with a coat just as beautiful as hers. He'd have a little something of his own to possibly remember Angier by... with all those muted russet and tan fur tones.

"Are you all right?" he asked through the chill, his head lifting smoothly above his shoulders as to eye her across the stretch of riverbank.

i'm a dreamer, i'm a man

i'm doing whatever i can to make the bad things go away

Today I'm not myself

There was no seeing or hearing the dark brute until he made himself known by sound. Though it soft she came to a dead stand still. Eyes roving the eerie white, finding a dark, and faintly silver marked wolf. His stance neutral, she managed to keep hers the same. Why young she may have once held a prejudice against dark and silver wolves, it had been ended swiftly after its start. The criminal had been given his just reward, and she learned it was no mark of wicked than other coat. And yet if she knew his scandalous fleeting thought she may just question that opinion.

As it was, her dark lashes swept over her orange irises making an assessment. He was of a large stature, not quite as her father but hardly less formidable. Especially the faint silver scars that danced so close to his eye. The lady was a little stunned her nose told her he was of her age for she would have guessed older. There was a strong aroma of willows, and a hint of other wolves. Which would logically seem to make him a part of a pack. It could have struck her as odd he was out here, alone at this hour. Somehow she felt he must have his reasons as she had hers. What did she care if he looked upon her with intelligent eyes, and a polite regard of her well being?

She didn't.

 "Mostly," she murmured with a brilliant smile, not trying to patronize him. There was something about having company that put it there. Why she surely was not all right, she thought she might get there some day. "Just trying to convince my teeth it isn't all that cold, but they insist." Shoulders shrugged as her tail rippled behind her hocks. Briefly, the maiden's sight fell upon the stretch of river beside them. It seemed more grand than that those on the other side of the mountain. But she was not exactly interested in the river. She tilted her head back to the gentleman.

"What of you, are you in good health on this argent night, sir?" She formally asked in turn. There was no mockery in her soprano voice, but her pale brow that rose in question might hint of a small, playful imply. Hypatia was eager for distraction rather she knew it or not.

(This post was last modified: Feb 09, 2016, 04:59 AM by Hypatia.)