oh ms believer

@Kjors-- Sunny, overcast, 34 ° F

Thick branches hung overhead, still unladen with springtime growth. The sun behind an overcast sky lit the world up in uncomfortable gray brightness, the kind that forced her to squint. Though the shadows were sparse and striped across her body like a cage as she stalked through the Ghastly Woods Amisun found refuge in the darkness, unexpectedly comfortable safety. She tried her hardest to resist the temptation to abuse her knowledge, staying sober as long as she could. As if the demons of her past could not make it past the borders of Cut Rock River. So far she had been doing alright, ignoring the undercurrent of anxiety that prickled her spine whenever she let her mind wander. So long as she was busy with work, the devil’s touch stayed away from her spine.

Whatever plants and herbs there were to find in the Cedarwood Ami had made short work of finding. Wet territories were great for certain medicinal plants, but truly abhorrent to others - and what good was her work without a variety? She had tried to stay close to the territory long enough that her scent would sink in, that the wolves of her home would know and accept her presence, but she was restless. The itch set under her skin to have an arsenal at her disposal, and when her feet could no longer take the burn of being home-bound the wolf simply had to up and go on her mission.

Somewhere along the way the welcoming Cedarwood had turned into a land of grey nightmare trunks, but the skeleton trees did not frighten the tawny she-wolf; she had seen far worse things before. She busied herself inspecting new stalks of greenery, sniffing close to identify it as solomon’s seal.  Though the roots were newly taken, she pondered harvesting a few anyway. If there was truly a war coming, they would need it soon and enough. And, as always, she kept an eye out for those brown-capped galenicals she was so fond of. Perhaps before she returned home from this little trip she would partake, just to keep the edge off, a little longer.

Stranger!

Mother practically shouted it at him, her gentle breeze sweeping through the dense pines and carrying with it a bouquet of scents.  There was the usual wet smell of the decaying leaves on the forest floor, the bright tingle of hemlock, and the muted whisper of aging wood – but there was something different on the sweep of air as it tickled the timber wolf's nose.  Chuffing softly, the male's hackles stood on edge as he grew another inch or two, prowling forth from his den.  This earth he had claimed – and while he had no pack, there was no mistaking him as the alpha of all he laid eyes upon.

There was little else that would satisfy a dragon.

Slithering forth without a word, the earthy male disappeared into the wood, snout curled back as he followed the essence along its gradient.  It was fresher than this forest, something he might qualify as clean or…or rather springy, he supposed.  Kjors snorted at the fanciful notion, narrowing his eyes as he came upon the tawny female in a sunbeam.  Thought his tail remained upright, he felt less inclined to be so threatening, the other wolf so involved in whatever menial task she'd set for herself.  Clearly, she came meaning him no particular harm.  Perhaps her manners were simply poor.

"'lo," the dragon greeted her, prowling deliberately from his umbral cloak.  Ears pressed forward as his single eye glinted in the light, a precious coin in a dark pit as he studied the foreign animal.  "Haven' seen th' likes a' ya, before," he rumbled, keeping a length between the two of them.  She smelled vaguely familiar – not unlike a wolf he'd met in the recent past.  "What're y'doin' in me neck a' th' woods, lassy?  Y' lost?"

A word prompted her attention, monosyllabic and rumbling from the crooked shadows. She turned her gaze quickly, but stood still and quiet as she surveyed the form that emerged from the darkness - another wolf. By scent and sight they were similar in age and nothing else - he a large, two-toned with what she assumed were scars wherever his fur grew tufty. Her pale blue gaze settled eventually on his singular golden eye, but what Ami thought of was how much it must have hurt to have the other one torn clean out of his head. At least, that was what it looked like from her peripheral view. She did not dare look him plain in an empty socket. She averted her gaze toward the moist forest floor.

She mulled over his questions while her eyes perused the gnarled roots that poked through the dirt. “Lost? N-no.” She responded. It was not a wholesome lie, after all she had never been in this neck of the woods - his neck of the woods. She knew the way home, however, and had a purpose being within the shadowy forest. Her chin lifted only slightly higher, more confident in her answer after thinking it through. ”My pack resides further south. I’m only here for plants, herbs. I’m a botanist.”

Ami paused, wondering why she was speaking so much. Was it that important to say? It was difficult to remain so silent under his watchful eye. “Is that why you’re here?” she hazarded the question, doubling its relevance the moment it funneled from her mind to her mouth. Each word came out softer, less certain, and Ami could hardly apologize for it. Pursing her lips into an uncertain line she let her eyes come near him once again, if only to judge his answer, before she’d look away again.

The fae was – unsure. And his was a slightly unexpected outcome. Kjors had grown used to wolves biting back at his barbed questions, arrogant or combative in the nature of their response. Her passivity caught him off guard, and in one silent second, he blinked owlishly, tipping his head to one side. In the second breath, his wits returned to his skull, and the great dragon did speak. "A botanist? Th' bloody hell is tha'?" he asked, head tipping to the other side. His ears flickered twice before he lowered his tail. His ruff followed suit, settling against his shoulders as it revealed his true (slightly unimpressive size).

Having determined this female to be of no true danger, he continued forward, until he was only just out of the female's reach. "Naw. Ah live 'bout these parts. Smelt somethin' queer up on th' wind an' came out t' investigate." Offering the stranger a toothy grin, he nodded in her general direction, would she be generally slow. "Wasn't expectin' t' find a botanist, of all things. Yer friendlier than any imagined trespasser." The nature of his comment remained ambiguous, but he reached out all the same, allowing her within the confines of his personal space.

"So, yer not from 'round here. Wha's yer name, lassy? Wha's yer pack?" Was she one of Aleksei's packmates? The lad wasn't so bad – but he'd run into the fiery pup in southern Eden, which would make his newest acquaintance rather far from her home range. Which did beg the question, why had she been sent so far from her home? As far as he could tell, there weren't any large packs in these parts. "They send ya all by yer lonesome? Weren' worried 'er nothin'?"

The notion that this wolf had not heard of botany before surprised Amisun to gather a response, but the words were quickly stolen from her mouth at his approach. He came closer and she shrank, the tip of her tail beginning to curve toward her pale underbelly. The words refused a threat, other than the notion that her scent was entirely out of place, but she still didn’t hazard anything other than a submissive posture - and perhaps the tiniest sheepish grin at the word trespasser.

Perhaps despite her best judgement, Amisun was inclined to gradually relax in his presence - though she made sure never to quite stand her full height or lift her tail or ears too high. It was, after all, his claimed land here. If he was willing to suffer a fool, Ami would at least make sure not to be too foolish again. While the fact was likely that this wolf didn’t have the care to entertain her fickle nerves, she took his continued conversation as forgiveness for her previous transgressions and took the time to heed his questions and provide them some truth.

“I am Amisun Echo of Cut Rock River, a pack further south.” She lifted her tawny muzzle in the vague direction of the Cedarwood Forest. “I came alone because botany is a minority occupation; not many quite know what to look for to get the job done.” Her pale gaze shifted back toward the solomon’s seal she had been inspecting just before the male had approached her. “You’re living in a den of possibility,” she quipped, her words the first to be spoken in any confidence since their conversation started.

There are several fresh rabbit tracks in the mud. Hunt Opportunity

Ah! Cut River Rock. That was the name. He'd encountered Aleksei much closer to the pack den – it surprised him, somewhat, that the female had wandered so far from her safe haven. And for plants, no less. It seemed to him there was plenty of greenery wherever he went, though he did suppose the spring was only just beginning. Perhaps she had to travel for what she sought – though that did bring an entire litany of questions to mind. Shifting his weight easily, some of his posture relaxed. Ears twitched forward, but out of interest and desire to catch her tongue. His banner fell to a relaxed half-mast, clearly unthreatened by her presence. Amisun's tail was practically underneath her belly. He might have grinned, were he feeling less charitable. It was good to know he still cast a formidable presence, even in a land that only knew him as a fresh expatriate.

"Well, pleased t' meet 'cha, Amisun Echo," he drawled lazily, unable to help the smile that crawled from his muzzle to his single eye. It was not entirely wholesome, his grin, but it promised no danger or immediate harm. Only amusement sparkled there, his interest captured by the little wildflower he found so close to his den. "M'name's Kjors. Th' One-Eyed Dragon. Fer obvious reasons," he laughed, single eye twinkling like the North Star.

Her additional statement was met with a slight tip of his head, ears swiveling as he mulled over her observation. Well, of course he was, that's why he picked such a place to carve out his resting area! Given, some of that was exhaustion, and some more of that might have been Urotho's doing, but the woman was missing again, and he was pleased enough to take the credit for his good idea. Somehow, he felt this might not be what Amisun had meant. "Y'think so, lassy? Ah liked it well enough – ain't too close t' pack borders. Naw yet, at least. 'less yer talkin' 'bout the plants 'round here? Can't claim t' know much a' 'nything 'bout that. Was never th' healer type."

A thoughtful pause.

"Maybe if Ah was, wouldn' be th' One-Eye Dragon, huh?"

“You as well,” she returned his formality, though the gesture was not empty - it actually was somewhat of a pleasure to get to know his acquaintance, The One-Eyed Dragon. The first half of his moniker was not masked in secrecy at all. The scarred socket was plain as day on his face, made perhaps more noticeable by the glint of his live eye so brightly gold. But a dragon was a formidable comparison, perhaps even a frightening one. He seemed so amicable now. She stole a glance at his jaws and wondered if he could truly spit fire.

Slowly the hint of a personality crept into her bones, brightening up the corners of her eyes and relieving the tension in her spine. If life were truly so poetic, it was not ironic at all then that a dragon would be the one to tease her back from the abyss of tragedy where she had resided for so long. Her tawny ears lifted slightly and twitched as she considered Kjors’ words. “Both,” she mused in a thought. The shadows of the thick and gnarled wood supported certain medicinal plants quite well, especially as it was neither damp nor dry. The lack of a pack scent suited her needs because it meant she did not risk offending a group when she gathered. This, Ami assumed, was not a concern for Kjors regarding pack markings.

More words in jest, and this time the tawny she-wolf allowed herself to chuckle softly. Would he be the One Eyed Dragon if he’d learned how to heal? “Perhaps not,” she remarked with a smile, though if Ami had to hazard a guess there was no botanist in the world capable of sparing an eye. “Botany is a tedious art to learn, and healing is not glamorous either. But it makes a world of difference when it comes to all kinds of sickness, condition, wounds of battle.” Her voice trailed off as she paused on the last idea with her lips pulled into a tight line. Amisun was well aware of the tensions surrounding her pack and their neighbors and it read as an anxious electricity in the air when she thought of it. If it came to that, she might need to show up at this wolf’s doorstep more often.

One day, he'd have his own his pack. He would surround himself with those worthy of calling themselves a dragon's kin. He would have his own pups running about at his feet, content to play until they'd grow their own wings. He would have all the land he wanted, rich with resources – and the treasures he chose to hoard. Patience was no longer his greatest asset. Another breeding season missed, uprooted from his former home, Kjors was aware that time was no longer on his side. He would have to begin making his moves as soon as he understood how the board was set.

Allowing himself to settle down, he rested his haunches on the ground, thick tail curling around his hip. The conversation was an interested one, and with no immediate threat (or other duty to see to), it only behooved him to continue the current exchange. Despite the fact that they were relative strangers – he liked her. Respectful, quiet, and she was intelligent. Clever conversation was something he missed, and the twinkling in his eye only grew a fraction brighter.

"Ah 'magine it would be. Ain't tha' different from fightin', in tha' respect. Always dreamin' of somethin' glorious – an' that ain't were anyone begins." His tail dusted across the ground as he hummed, mind drifting to his own upbringing. How foolhardy he'd been. So certain of his own prowess and strength, determined to lead a pack at just a year old. Even if his mother hadn't poisoned him-- No, no. She had cursed him, that bitch. Swallowing the toxic memory down, he drew his eye back to Amisun, and offered her a small grin. "Ah, well. Think Ah'd 've gotten that eye carved out regardless. M'sure yer pack is glad t' have ya though, aye? Ah left me old den 'cos battling packs left me no space. Yer own pack at war, then?" The dragon rumbled softly, glancing over his shoulder towards the general direction of his home. "Do Ah need t' move me den? Ah ain' interested in someone else's problems, y'know?"

As Kjors relaxed Amisun didn’t hesitate to follow suit, finding a comfortable seat on the ground. The dirt was cool where the gnarled branches overhead cast a thick shadow, contrary to the adjacent spots where the relentless pale sunlight created warmth. Her tail swept by her side to rest at the tips of her blunt claws. The tip of her tail twitched with interest as she listened to him connect the arts in a thought. She appreciated his sensibility, wherever it came from. So many wolves seemed to ramble on through life, never picking up a lesson from any mistake. Amisun did not. Neither did the One-Eyed Dragon.

The conversation had been continuing easily until he picked up what she had dropped about the war. Ami paused. “No,” she started, uncertain how much she was supposed to say or not say. But it didn’t very well matter, she figured, given that she’d already revealed enough. Ami as well did not intend to worry him with matters of her pack, given that his last home had been claimed by a war that wasn’t his. It was only decent to inform him he was safe here. “Not yet,” she clarified. “Whatever trials are to come, they will take place far west of here. Your den will be safe from pack affairs, if not the occasional botanist.” She slid her glance toward him, the smile stretched across her tawny muzzle reflected in her eyes.

Her brows twitched as a thought wiggled its way into the folds in her brain. Normally Amisun would ignore it and hold the question in her jaws, but instead she spoke. “This is where you have decided to stay permanently?” If there were a pack he was considering, it was only prudent to find out if there was a chance he would become her enemy soon enough.