Nomads Pass An Ounce of Relief

Asta was begging to be written some more... and she's always so perky. So here's a mood switch for the dear girl. All welcome - I don't anticipate this could be a long thread but it doesn't matter to me. ^^ Don't worry. She won't mope forever. xD

Setting
Overcast — 43° F/6° C
Early Morning (5am)
Likely the day after events in "The Silver Dagger" but adjustable.

It was black when Asta found her way back to the heart of the territory to finally settle in for the night. She found herself nestled against a misshapen boulder, its edges creating an overhang that sheltered her from the worst of the elements. The young she-wolf curled there, eyes turning to the darkened sky.

Asta. The name meant "star." So her mother had told her once, long ago. There were no stars out tonight. With a sigh, the woman curled and she slept. An hour, two, then three ticked by before she began to stir in her sleep. Her ears twitched, her paws. And a most uncomfortable sound escaped her throat, a half-strangled growl and a whimper... the hunter woke herself and shot upright, smacking her head against her shelter in the process. Asta hissed sharply to avoid making any further noise... for she knew it was her own sleep-sounds that awakened her now. The pain from smacking the rock... that she tried to ignore as she half-rose. She awoke in the 'tween-time: the sky was no longer black, but the sun was far from rising again. The world was painted a cold gray... and Asta felt the walls of depression slinking up all around her as the depths of her nightmares- no, memories- haunted her.

The woman was tense, her forelimbs splayed awkwardly on the ground before her as she rose half-way, her hindquarters still tucked beneath her. She felt unwell. Not physically, no. But for a moment she wished desperately she wasn't alone. She wished... her brother was there. She curl up next to him when she was afraid and just be close.

She suspected the events of the past few days were the culprit of how she felt now - of her nightmares and restlessness. She had been shaken by her mistake involving the scout. Were there others she didn't know about? She had assumed so much - too much. Hadn't she? These worries were suddenly compounded with a feeling she had managed to escape from these past few months: an empty hole where @Cohen once was. Being in the Pass - being a Nomad - had kept Asta occupied. She kept herself busy because she wanted to be useful, to prove she fit perfectly into the puzzle @Naira had built here. But she also wanted to forget how alone she'd been... and why she had felt emptier than ever before.

Now she had a pack around her and, while she thought having a pack might fix the feeling, it was suddenly back. She wanted it to be just because of her dream-memories. She wanted it to be because the events on the borders had stressed her a little more than she thought. But she still didn't know what to do with loneliness when others were all around her. She didn't think she'd feel this empty again.

Mentally and physically forcing herself from her sleeping place, the young woman gave her fur a quick shake (she disliked bedfur no matter what her mental condition at the time) and a brief once-over with her tongue before she slipped away from her shelter and seated herself again. She didn't see anyone else around, and her expression was far from its usual, upbeat self. Sure, someone could put it down to waking up way too early and being on "the wrong side of the bed" but... the downturned lips and shadowed, haunted eyes were hardly the eyes of a wolf who was simply tired.

No point moping, the hunter tried to tell herself, but it didn't cheer her spirits any. And it was so... early. Blinking once or twice, her head tilted back to look skyward. A hunt will distract me. Or... will I only be distracted from the hunt? This awkward time would prove perfect for chasing prey. They'd be sleeping still... or just bedding down. But Asta didn't really feel like hunting for once. She wanted her packmates to stir - to show themselves. She didn't necessarily want them to talk even. She just wanted to see and remember that past was past, and she wasn't alone anymore.

♥ Allie

A shadow within the darkness of midnight Cohen walked alone, with his head and tail lowered in weariness. He had been wandering these slopes for days now with many nights of restlessness, and had not encountering a single soul of another wolf. This place reminded him too much of that day, and he knew his dreams would be plagued with such thoughts. Rather than waking in a cold sweat Cohen chose to continue his wanderings, letting the wind shifting through the pines to be his comfort in the blackness that had swallowed land and sky. A part of him feared the dark for what it represented, yet the soft grass and creaking trees reminded him that what had been was now in the past, and now was a time to think of the present. Most important of all, that it was time to think of her. He had lost everything in his life, relatives, friends, and a pack. Yet the only thing that had remained was her, the most dearest and closest thing he had since they had been born together.

His sister, Asta, had been missing for some time now. Missing, because he refused to accept the fact that she was gone, despite the fact that he had no proof of her existence for some time now. He reasoned that his broken, disheveled body was the sacrifice that he gave to save her, and that she had been long ahead of the slide when it came to bury him. Yet what if that hadn't been enough? What if that last act had done nothing to let the one he loved escape their fate? After all he had learned for some time now that there are some things one cannot force their way out of to escape.

Closing his eyes Cohen felt his ears pressed against his skull Then why am I alive? He thought bitterly to himself, What right should I go on existing if I can't even save her? He waited in contemplation, but no answer came. The only answer now, he felt, was by finding her. For several more hours he continued his slow limping gait until the breeze died down, and all became still around him. He scented something that he could barely make out in the distance, and he tilted his head as a sense of familiarity filled him. He cautiously moved closer each step slowly drawn out as to not alert whatever it was. The closer he came to it the more he felt his heart pounding as his mind slowly began to process when he had found. Despite all disbelief the scent strongly reminded him of Asta. In fact, it was Asta for the scent was as strong as the forest around him. Yet unable to fully comprehend that he had finally found her, he let a a hoarse whisper from a voice that hadn't been used to often. "Asta? Is...is that you?" He called out from a distance, unable to make her out from the shadows of the rock she rested under. His voice echoing across the forest he stood frozen, and torn between doubt and hope that it was truly her.

Would you mind a small powerplay? I'm moving this so it's basically on the borders of the pack 'cause right now Asta is close to the territory's heart ... which besides being hazardous to at least Cohen's health (potentially Asta's too) would be unlikely. Asta's just gonna go for a walk to solve that problem. xD If you do have a problem with this let me know and I can edit the post. On the other hand... I am so excited for this thread right now! :D

Wishing for something didn't make it so. Asta sat alone in the predawn light, her expression flickering between that doleful look so unusual on her features and something like determination. She couldn't just sit here anymore - she needed desperately to move; she needed to do anything other than be still and continue staring dejectedly at the Pass around her. So she began down the sloping, rocky terrain with the surefootedness that seem to define part of her now. She let her mind wander; her eyes fell to her paws as she walked. Asta was not paying her usual attention. She wasn't moving with her usual intention to hunt or patrol just... wandering. Wandering the depression away. Could that happen? She doubted it.

Asta's inattention did not serve her well. She wasn't far from the borders - there was a little more plantlife here... a little more green. Trees. Her step slowed as she realized how far she had come from the place she now called home. She still felt empty. Unsure. This wasn't helping. She turned to go back, but a noise stopped her.

No. Not a noise. A voice.

She froze, ears perking, but she had already missed what was said. She didn't recognize the broken, unused timbre, only knew it was male. And it was on the borders - across them possibly. What happened in those next few moments was perhaps fueled, like her nightmares, by all she had experienced lately: she remembered meeting Sagacity, across the borders, alone... unfamiliar and surely no wolf of the Pass. She had been wrong. Would the same thing be true twice? No, that couldn't be. An inexplicable rage filled the young woman as she turned about, rigid, her fur bristling and an audible snarl already filling the air. She had decided all her frustrations - all her sadness - could be channeled into this... Finding the voice and driving its owner away...

The woman launched herself forward, tail streaming behind her as she made no effort at silence. It wasn't until she had closed more than half the distanced between herself and the stranger - a broken, limping wolf she could now see - that she suddenly ground to a halt, her lips trembling uncertainly and eyes flashing dangerously... but also fearfully. He didn't look familiar - she told herself as much anyway. But he smelled like... like a ghost! That smell- ? Her imagination? Surely it wasn't real? But she had already begun to tremble, though her tail curled high and stiff over her back aggressively. Who was this wolf who smelled so like the deceased she remembered? This wolf who looked like someone she knew to be dead... but was so much more broken than the powerful young wolf she remembered.

Asta's throat felt tight and constricted. She had to force her words out roughly, had to make an immense effort not to simply continue her rush to attack, or to tremble with something like terror. "You're trespassing. Come any closer and the consequences will be dire for you," she spoke more boldly than she felt. She may have grown sleeker and stronger since she'd become a Nomad, but that did not mean she could take on a wolf nearly her brother's size (she thought this man seemed smaller, but then... he seemed somehow defeated.) And hopeful... he seemed hopeful. But Cohen was dead. Dead! He had been buried and Asta had nearly suffered the same fate! But his face... his eyes... the predawn light must have been tricking her... she refused to hope- Who was this stranger? How dare he come here? "How'd you come by this place?"

For so long she had wandered believing he was dead. She had given up hope long ago. To try to hope again now and find it not so? It would destroy her.

♥ Allie