Red Fern Forest kinda outta luck

@Borlla!

Sunlight streaked through the cracks in the canopy, glittering like gold when the occasional warm breeze would rouse the tangle of branches overhead. Springtime had been kind to the forest, a healthy growth shown by the rich brown trunks and vibrant green leaves that surrounded her every movement. But it was not the trees that had her attention, not even for a second - then again, how could they when Fiora found herself practically swimming through a field of fire-colored ferns? Below the dirt surface they laid anchor, fern after fern reaching for her, crimson fingers brushing against her tawny legs as she made haste through the vibrant display.

The beauty of such a unique place was lost on her suffering soul. Pressing further into the sanguine-carpeted forest heightened her alert, struggling to keep her head high with each anxious step. Perhaps it was the stark oddity of the setting that had given rise to her internal turmoil, but it became immensely clear to her - even more of an attention grabber than these ridiculous ferns - that she was completely and utterly alone. For the first time in her life she was without anything or anyone. Having come from so little, she didn't expect it to hurt so much. The pit of her stomach was aching with fear, nerves set on fire with the very uncertainty of it all, but even within the mess of her mind Fiora refused to find regret. She had to do it, she had to go.

At least, she would keep telling herself so. Fiora had not cultivated much wisdom in those twelve months she'd been alive, but one thing she knew as fact: you're only as weak as you show it. Sure, she could smell the unmistakable scent of wolf all around her - and lots of it - perhaps packs, perhaps allies, and she herself had none. And yes, this eyesore of a forest was practically never-ending and she had no idea how to navigate it, much less find inconspicuous shelter. But that didn't matter, so long as she kept her composure. At least until...

Until what? Truth be told, Fiora did not know what she was looking for. Or what the hell she was doing - here, in general, whatever. She had bigger problems than this, but it was wise to keep your goals manageable: so firstly, she would find her way out of this weird ass forest. Yeah, she was capable of that. In spite of the war in her mind, she just kept hacking her way through the ferns, suppressing the snarls that rumbled in her throat, feeling small, and absolutely oblivious to anything but her selfish concern for her fickle feelings.

art - threads
adopt laoise?

As the air warmed and spring moved over the mountain, Borlla found herself straying farther away from packlands. Her children would be fine, she knew it. And if they weren't, there would be hell to pay. With that in mind, she could be free again. All she really longed to do was familiarize herself with this new place. She'd known her old home and the surrounding lands, but this was like a whole new world to the woman. If she was to be an effective leader, she'd have to know the lay of the land anyway, right? Along the creek she traveled, stopping occasionally to take a drink, enjoying the sunlight as the star climbed higher and higher into the sky.

Her tail stuck straight out behind her, occasionally wagging, or curling happily over her back. Borlla began to realize that the creek was veering, taking her towards the mountain, so she parted from it, heading north, rather than back west. Besides, there were rather curious autumn-hued ferns poking up from the ground. The longer she followed them, the more they collected, eventually taking over the grasses, leaving her in an incredible sea of red. The woman paused, surveying her surroundings, casually sniffing the air, not expecting much and not getting much either. Her tail swayed by her legs now, as her head fell level once more, her legs carrying her back into a casual little trot.

It reminded her faintly of Fireweed Rise, and she longed to drag Phineas out here. It felt like ages since they'd had some sort of real conversation. Her ears angled about, curious to what sort of creatures would live among the red. There was hardly anywhere to hide and something of such an audacious color certainly wouldn't taste that great. Her stomach was silent anyway, so it was mostly a matter of curiosity that would likely sort itself out in time. In the meantime, she filled the minutes with mere wanderings, occasionally sniffing trees for any sign of recent life <b style="color:#32527a">"speech."

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The uncertainty was ceaseless, pumping through her veins with every quick beat of her heart. Truly alone. After all, what could be hiding out here? Against such a stark background any regularly-patterned animal would stand out, the way blue-jays and cardinals did when they sat on a barren branch. Fiora imagined for a moment a violent red hare, or a deer the color of carnations, and let a wide grin take over her expression. Those animals, perhaps, would find it easy living out here. But they weren't real. She would not admit to anyone that for a fleeting moment her ice-blue eyes scanned the treeline, just in case.

But then, as she swung her head back to face forward once more, something accompanied the breeze that ruffled the black fur on her back that suggested she was actually wrong. Someone was out there, though not a red deer. It was a wolf, and it was fast approaching. Immediately her blood turned to ice and like so, she froze in her place, one extended leg just hanging in the air. Her fur bristled, rising in jagged peaks all down her spine as she racked her brain for the appropriate response. She came to a conclusion with less than a second, though she didn't ponder long if appropriate was the word to use, and swiftly moved to hide.

Quick as she could Fiora dug her shoulder into the dirt and flipped on to her back, wriggling about in her attempt to become one with the ferns. It wouldn't be perfect, but perhaps the scent of this wild growth in her nape might make her less noticeable. At least there was some hint of red in her coat, that rust color that layered over her tawny undercoat, which she used as a flimsy comfort that her first attempt at stealth was on the better side of half-assed. Rolling back to her belly she remained as low as she could, dragging herself through the red foliage toward the nearest tree trunk to further cover herself. Inhaling sharply the girl fought to steady herself, and slowly roved her snout nose-first around the bend of the tree to peek at what was coming.

There further down between the trees moved a pale wolf shape. Hints of orange in her creme fur nearly matched the lighter ferns, giving the unknown wolf an appearance of belonging. Fiora felt the thought burn in the back of her mind and scowled, watching as the stranger strolled. Her movements were casual - was she even wagging her tail? The thought that this wolf seemed right at home among the strange growth immediately peeved the yearling, feeling suddenly foolish for her previous over-reaction. No matter, she decided as the other female seemed to draw nearer. I'll just wait for her to get close enough and then I'll show myself. The choice of course had to be Fiora's - this one had already gotten one-up on her, so she had to take back the upper hand. And no, she was not hesitating, she was just waiting for the opportune moment gosh darn it.

art - threads
adopt laoise?

Borlla always fancied a nice little walk. It was especially nice knowing that she had a home to go back to once she was done walking. Her whole existence wasn't just some endless walk now. At one point in her life she was no more than an automaton, lacking in feelings, just desperate to find her next meal. Now she was reborn, living and breathing. She had feelings. Exhaling, Borlla's tail swished through the ferns. Her nose twitched slightly, puzzled, as her eyes swept over the continuing ferns in the distance. There was a scent in the air now, fresh, but still faint. Head cocked, Borlla moved on, head stretched forward, nose testing the air. It got stronger as she went on, but no matter how close she thought she got, it seemed to still be faint.

Eventually, Borlla stopped, ears twisted back in irritation. Was someone hiding from her? An ambush of some sort, perhaps? Whoever was trying to pull it off wasn't doing a very good job, since she could smell them. Besides, what reason did anyone have to ambush her? Plopping her rump down in the ferns, her ears aimed forward, listening and waiting. If they wanted her, they were more than welcome to come and get her. Her hackles rose, patience running out as she waited, keeping her voice to herself, save for the occasional little huff or snort. <b style="color:#32527a">"speech."

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Fiora Geddes

Primadonna girl, all I ever wanted was the world.

Something was off, now. Her dainty paw-steps were no longer carefree, some sort of realization seeming to simmer in her tangerine eyes. Oh, shit, has she noticed me? the yearling pondered as though there was any possibility that she could've missed her. For a moment the girl almost withdrew, barely tipping her dark nose away from the target before she furrowed her brow and stopped herself. She couldn't lose sight of her target, not when the target was on to her. She blinked forcefully, like it would put some sense back in her, and re-focused on the female to see her new position.

But there wasn't a new position; the lady had simply gone ahead and plopped herself down. Almost pouty Fiora realized that probably would have been a much better initial reaction than the route she'd chosen, but she refused to dwell on it long. It hadn't felt like long, but it must have been a while, noticing the way those tawn-touched tackles rose.

Well, it was now or never. Fiora let her ego build up like water in a reservoir and, once her head was significantly bloated, bounced forward from her hiding spot. She took two steps, wide and a little stiff, before coming to a proud halt. Fiora gave a brusque shake to clear her camouflage (poorly) and lifted her head. There was still an obvious dusting of dirt over her tri-colored coat, and a few fern leaves poked out of her ruff, but she gave the paler she-wolf a champion grin that suggested she forgive her haggard appearance.

"Man, weird place, huh?" interjected into the silence, trying to divert any attention from addressing whatever weird thing she had obviously been doing before she revealed herself. As far as Fiora was concerned, the moments before this exact one basically never happened, soooo, yeah.

art - threads
adopt laoise?

It didn't take long for the culprit to appear. But Borlla was surprised to find that the supposed ambusher was no more than a yearling. And a dirty one at that. Ferns stuck from the female's pelt, which seemed darker than it should have. The girl had clearly been hiding. Pale brows rose over violent orange eyes as Borlla regarded her haphazard company. <b style="color:#32527a">"So you were the one watching me, eh?" Borlla asked, a hint of humor in her voice. She hardly registered the girl's question, brushing it off as something that was probably to throw the scent off of her. Borlla wasn't dumb, though. She knew well enough the ways of the yearling.

Her tail curled over her back as she rose to her paws, giving the girl a careful once over. She didn't seem much of a threat at all now, and though rather close to Magnolia Glen, and by extension, her children, Borlla hardly found reason to worry about the girl until she proved herself more of a threat. Borlla didn't see much reason to be threatened by a girl who hid among the brush only to pretend that such a thing never happened. <b style="color:#32527a">"Might wanna be more careful next time. Ya know, if I'd found you, I'd probably have chewed your ears off." Though there was a smile on her face, her words were rather serious. She'd been worried about being ambushed before, and anyone sneaky enough to try that could have been a threat to her offspring. The stranger's little "act" had very well spared her ears. <b style="color:#32527a">"speech."

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Fiora Geddes

Primadonna girl, all I ever wanted was the world.

There was a falter in her prize-winning grin, a little downturn at the corners of her brilliant display of teeth when the other she-wolf didn't even humor Fiora's attempt at saving face. Her ice-bright eyes projected a moody sigh, but she kept her mouth shut, for just a moment longer. Whoever this wonk was, they had a big ego to suggest she might be able to get those pointy teeth around her ears!

"Is that so?" she countered, somewhat dryly, and mirrored the stranger's stance. She let her tail rise slightly, chin in the air as she cocked her head to one side. "It's a good thing you didn't, 'cause then I might've taken myself a pretty white flag for my tail collection." Her voice said she was joking - her hardened gaze said maybe not.

Fiora did not move any closer, for despite the bite in her eyes her heart still beat a little too quickly to suggest she felt comfortable exchanging these words. There was something in her nature that made it so damn easy for sass to fly off her salmon-colored tongue without so much as a first thought, much less a second - but there was something in the wolf's nature that knew she was a stranger in a strange land and it was far from wise to be tip-toeing on a line so soon after her arrival. Fiora didn't know a thing about the stranger or the situation at hand, and yet pride was a fickle thing, wasn't it?

art - threads
adopt laoise?

Borlla had been amused at first. The yearling had disguised herself quite well, but was no good at all at disguising the fact that she had been disguised. Borlla found it all very funny, but clearly the yearling didn't. And things got generally less amusing from then on. Nostrils flared with unease at the younger girl's display, and Borlla growled, stepping forward a bit. Her tail rose a bit higher, and a grimace crossed her face. Sure, she didn't really have any claim to this forest, but if this yearling thought she was going to get the better for Borlla, well, she had another thing coming. <b style="color:#32527a">"If you think you can get it, then come and get it," Her voice was stark and oddly threatening. Somewhere in the back of her mind, however, she still found all of this great fun, and perhaps some of that childish amusement found its way into her words. Her stance, however, betrayed nothing.

Once upon a time, Borlla had been like this, and it hadn't given her anything but heartache in the long run. But, she supposed, that it had been fun while it lasted, at least at first. So Borlla couldn't help but wonder what the future had in store for this wonky kid. <b style="color:#32527a">"What's your name, kid?" She asked, not faltering in her stance. <b style="color:#32527a">"speech."

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Fiora Geddes

Primadonna girl, all I ever wanted was the world.

Uh oh. Fiora found herself shirking back so instinctively she didn't even notice, her tawny legs tensing and lowering her body ever so slightly in response to the cream-coated she-wolf's rise in stature. When she spoke again, she averted her frosty gaze, not fond of being provocative on accident. The female's invitation for further action was devoid of her earlier humor.

Fiora skipped a beat. She laughed a little three-syllable laugh, so delicate it was almost fragile, because it was easier to giggle than it was to say no thank you to her response. Fiora recognized she had been bested, at least for the moment, and swallowed the irritation at it. Lose the battle, win the war - that was applicable here, right? Besides, she did like that line. Come and get it. She'd certainly use that as a comeback the next time she got the chance.

Thankfully, she then posed a question. Fiora lifted her head again and blinked. For a moment she considered not answering the pale wolf, just because it was Brattiness 101, but she realized how stupid that was. She was here alone, without a family to head back to, and the only way she'd survive was with others. "Fiora," she responded. Geddes was quick to follow, but she snapped her jaws shut over the name. She was still a little bitter about her roots, and failing to give that part of her identity a breath of life returned to her at least some small part of her power.

Given that, she let her eyes fall upon the other's bright gaze and returned the parry. "What's yours?"

art - threads
adopt laoise?

Thankfully Borlla's dominant stance seemed to turn the younger woman off. Good. The elder woman wasn't in any mood to get in a fight today. She would much rather go back to being amused, maybe finding out more about this girl, even if she got the information in a more smart-alleky fashion. Borlla smiled, and relaxed her stance only slightly, but not enough to make it seem as though she was just going to pretend nothing had happened. The girl was willing enough to give Borlla her name, Fiora. <b style="color:#32527a">"Borlla Tainn," She answered when asked. <b style="color:#32527a">"Leader of Magnolia Glen." The woman added with a flourish at the end, as though she was giving the girl another reason not to mess with her.

<b style="color:#32527a">"So, Fiora, why were you hiding from me?" It was probably a pointless question. <b style="color:#32527a">"I mean, you were doing pretty good until...well, until you stopped." Her bright eyes swept over the girl's form, addressing, again, the dirt and leaves in her fur. This girl probably thought her a codger, though perhaps a bit more cranky. It wasn't necessarily the real Borlla, however, but she had a form to fit, and wasn't about to let some loner yearling walk all over her. <b style="color:#32527a">"speech."

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