Sex: FemaleThe Lore was an odd place. It was like all of the possible terrains of Canada were smooshed into this one square piece of land, and the robotic girl had not even experienced the entire thing yet. Hell, she wasn't sure she really wanted to. It would be an exhausting journey, to say the least, and she wasn't quite willing to tire herself out so deeply. Ash didn't really have a personal preference for landscaping, but this place... she liked this place. Her absently wandering paws had brought her upon a massive waterfall, though with the combination of snow and the freezing rain that caused icicles to cling to Ash's own fur had transformed the structure into a half-liquid, half-solid mass. The water on either side had frozen, but the water in the center was still flowing. The pool in the middle was much the same, with ice stretching across the surface, and only the middle was thawed. Monotonous fur blended with the gray-and-white landscape as she approached the pool and lowered her head down to touch her nose to the ice. The resulting memory was sudden and jarring, borne from the feeling of something frigid against her muzzle. It washed away everything around her, causing the robot to become --- There was blood everywhere, staining the young girl's mouth and chest; the fur was crimson and clotted together, and the taste of iron was bitter on her tongue. It caused her to gag, and she was instantly assaulted from behind by a larger, bulkier, darker wolf. Her older brother, Virgil. He was remarkably free of blood, his charcoal fur clean and well-kempt, but bristling along his spine. "Weak!" he spat in her face, lips curled in a snarl. His silver-blue eyes, like her own, bore into hers. "You killed him. You did what you were told to do! So you don't freaking gag like a wimp; you own it! It's what we do here." And it was. They were trained, from birth, to kill. Ash had just been a sort of late bloomer, in a sense. This was the first-ever wolf she'd killed - a packmate, actually. A boy around her age who was too sick and weak to remain in the pack, according to their leader, Baal. There was no tolerance for physical illness in this pack; no care for the sick, old, or disabled. Only the strong survived. In response, Ash simply nodded, throat too tight to speak. Virgil released her and snorted in disgust before turning and leaving her alone with the dead body of her packmate. The colorless girl just sat there, alone with the corpse for several long, still moments, before she rose to shaky, blood-covered paws and crept her way over to the wolf she'd murdered. She pressed her nose to his icy fur. --- The loner jerked back to reality and gritted her teeth, face emotionless save for the tears standing in her frosted silver-blue eyes. She growled under her breath at her relative weakness and sniffed them back, then placed a paw on the ice before her. Still white and unbloodied, in the literal sense. However, in the metaphoric, Asha's paws were stained crimson. She'd killed more than just that once, all under the command of Baal and his co-leader. She still hated herself for it. |
It appeared that the smudge could not escape his former home, no matter where he went. The falls he had stumbled upon were not nearly as magnificent as the falls that played a big part in his childhood, but they would suffice. His life in the Pines was behind him—the pack, just like his parents, had left him. He was fortunate to have his age-mates still with him, who had initiated the move west. If it had not been for them Arion would have left the lands of Relic Lore behind. Perhaps he would be able to find his father and deliver the news of his mother’s fate. The boy scoffed at this. Doubtful. Inkheart had two years to come back for his son and mate; if he had not returned yet, he never would.
The rain clung his dark fur, quickly turning into little icicles. A deep frown was etched across his dark features as he meandered toward the falls, hoping that he was headed in the right direction. He recalled stumbling upon them, briefly, after he and Nalda were first accepted into the pack. But now, with ice quickly devouring his surroundings, he wasn’t so sure. It would have been wise to turn back and wait out the undesirable conditions, but he gritted his teeth and continued. Arion had never been good at making wise decisions. He was far too young to care, and if his mother’s death taught him anything, it was that life certainly was too short.
As he approached sound of the waterfall was muted due to half the water being encased in ice. However, it was not the appearance of the falls that had startled the smudge. No—it was the presence of another, who blended so well into their surroundings that he almost did not notice her. The boy remained quiet, his head tilted to the side as he studied the older wolf, his movement ceased as he was not sure if this loner was friendly or not. While he was not always wise, he still had enough sense when to be cautious.
It wasn't that she heard anyone approaching - the waterfall, though halfway frozen, was still loud enough to drown out footfalls and any other noises an approaching wolf might make. It was more along the lines that she felt someone's eyes on her that caused her to whip around, stiffen, and scan the area for any threats. Fortunately, the shadowy figure that was staring her way was easy to spot in the snow-whitened landscape, and Ash sighed through her nose as she relaxed. Blue met blue as she found his gaze and made eye contact.
She could deduce from looking that he was a young wolf - still a boy, more than likely - but not much younger than herself. A few months, tops, as she had just turned two years a day or two ago. Their pelt colors were about as opposite as one could hope to achieve - coal black and silvery white. Though, upon further investigation, she could spot the whispers of silver twining their way through his pelt. Like her, however, he had pale blue eyes - their shades weren't far off at all. Unlike her, his pelt was not marred by scars.
He was very handsome, objectively speaking.
Ash did not often think of those types of things. She'd been programmed not to.
The colorless wolf shifted her stance and offered him a slow wave of her tail - no need to be rude if there was no threat, after all - before speaking. "Hello," she called, torn ears flicking back and forth between trying to seem unaggressive and with interest. She also wanted to be as casual as possible; she was very awkward in these kinds of situations. Meaning any situation where she would need to speak to another wolf. "My name is Asha. What is yours?"
The boy stiffened once the pale girl noticed him, offering nothing but a short wave of her tail in greeting before disrupting the air between them with her voice. Her pale fur, paired with eyes that mirrored his own, was rather unsettling among all the ice and snow. Until she spoke Arion was beginning to question whether or not she was actually real. His tongue, suddenly dry, shifted uncomfortably in his mouth as she introduced herself. At least she had welcomed his presence instead of shooing it away, but now the smudge did not know if conversation was what he was seeking. Solitude, maybe, but conversation? The corners of his lips dipped at the thought.
“Arion,” he responded after a pregnant pause, the frown quickly flipping around into soft, friendly smile. His head was tilted slightly to one side, a line forming in his forehead as he studied the girl, allowing silence to settle over them once more. Silence was something he was learning to cherish as he grew older, despite loathing it as a pup. It pained him to think how much had changed since his mother’s death; how much he changed.
Truthfully, the boy had never really noticed girls—or boys, for that matter—despite being surrounded by them since birth. While Ember and Nalda were not his littermates, they might as well have been as they were the closest thing he had to family in the Lore. Which was why he had decided to follow them to the Bend. They had been a part of his life for so long he did not know what he would do without them—even if the two girls did not get along all the time. The smudge never paid much attention to appearances. He was more focused on the words dripping off their tongues; the sincerity behind their words. Never had he experienced a crush or pined after another. Perhaps he was broken, but he did not mind. Feelings had never been his strong suit. After discovering what had happened to his mother, he had felt too much, and now he wanted to nothing to do with them.
He was satisfied with the sound of crashing water behind the ethereal girl but he did not know if she felt the same. But he didn’t know what to say. His tongue lay in his mouth like a stone, unsure of what to conceive as he allowed his pale gaze to wander, studying the ice fixtures behind Asha. “You from around here?” He asked, suddenly, the words fumbling out of his mouth. Smooth, as always.
The young woman understood that something was off about the boy's behavior, but she wasn't quite sure what it was. Perhaps he was... feeling... uncomfortable? The colorless wolf didn't know. She wasn't positive her presence was wanted, though technically she had been there first. She supposed he could just leave, if he so desired. An argument or fight was the last thing she wanted, so if it came to that, she would walk off on her own accord.
Fortunately, that did not seem to be the case. After a long pause, he finally stated his name, and even offered her a small smile to go along with it. Naturally, and as fitting with social norms, Ash smiled back - a curve of her lips that didn't quite reach her eyes. That wasn't really something that happened anymore; had never happened, really. The life she had lived did not allow for things like joy, happiness, contentment, comfort. She'd seen the life drain from too many eyes to have much life in her own.
This boy seemed to be like her, in that regard. He was young, with his whole life in front of him, but he had no enthusiasm for it. Asha had almost pictured him as a happy, bouncing, friendly wolf when she'd first laid eyes on him, but he seemed content to let the silence sit between them. He, too, had those eyes. Not the eyes of a killer, like Asha's, but eyes that had seen far too much bad in his short life.
She could empathize.
"Nice to meet you," she said, in turn, and then fell silent once more. The only sound came from the waterfall behind her, and stretched out for several moments before this Arion character seemed to decide that he didn't want it to be quiet any longer, and decided to speak once more.
Didn't matter to her. Ash was fine either way.
She turned to glance at the waterfall, where his eyes had drifted, before flicking her gaze back to the boy. "I'm not. I'm from quite a ways down south. I just got here," she replied, shifting her weight to get a bit more comfortable in the snow. "Are you?"
The smudge was beginning to realize that he should have left. He did not want to be bothered, and with her demeanour mirroring his, it was safe to say that she was not the type that dabbled in small talk either. His nails clicked against the icy ground as he shuffled his paws, uncomfortably, beneath him. There was no running now—not until he was dismissed by the ghostly wolf before him. Truthfully, he appreciated the silence that shrouded her. It was not often that he would encounter another who was not keen on using so many words.
If Asha had met him months ago, before he had discovered his mother’s broken body, their encounter would be going much differently. Arion used to suffer frequent bouts of word vomit when he encountered strangers, his outgoing personality positively infectious. However, now, even the simple curl of his lips did not come easy.
His ears perked at her response, his head falling to the side as curiosity bubbled inside his chest. South. Arion was always fascinated by those he encountered born outside of the Lore. There was a whole other world out there, waiting to be explored. For a moment, envy reared its ugly head but Arion quickly dismissed it, shoving it down into the dark corners of his mind. One day he would venture outside of the Lore—when he was ready. For now, he was satisfied being with his age-mates, for they made life tolerable. “Sort of,” he answered with a lazy smile, his shoulders rolling into a soft shrug. “Used to be from a little further north. But now I’m here.” The move had ignited the flame of wanderlust in his chest, and while his paws itched to explore further, he couldn’t yet.