The Wildwood to the start

<i>For Steph first and then AW after that. </i>

<blockquote>Long, well built limbs carried paws carefully across the charred remains of a once lush forest. A push of haunches pulled the winter-white tinted wolf against the dank emptiness like a spectre to revisit the past. Slightly rounded ear tips splayed back against a broad head before twisting upwards in an ever vigilant survey of the landscape. A scrutinizing glance fell against the scarred trunks of trees before delving unto the freshly green vegetation peering out from beneath a fresh fall of snow. Nostrils sampled the various aromas that drifted with the bitter chill of approaching winter. Small flurries of snow once again began drifting down from the angry clouds above. The crystallized water played against the dusty pelt of the stranger, neither melting nor sticking as he continued past the carnage and advanced into the heart of the Wildwoods.

While the stout soldier was accustomed to the drifting, weightless drops of white he was equally accustomed to lush, green, overgrowth. There was an ache in his heart at the thought of the homelands that had shaped him into the wolf he had become. It hadn't been long that the caravan of soldiers had fallen leaving just the young-yet-experienced Eoghan alive.

A plethora of scents bathed the terrain and earth as supple paws maneuvered the terrain like a shadow. Pale gray eyes flit from each inky blot against the horizon before dipping short, muscled neck to assess the terra firma. Upon inspection he continued in a rinse and repeat action as the pack loomed ever closer in the distance.</blockquote>

(This post was last modified: Nov 28, 2010, 02:51 AM by Eoghan.)

Feather was swift and quick when she ran from her family. She was discreet, leaving in the dark of the night, and plowed through any and all water sources without restraint. She knew Ink would know where she had run to. But her brother had humiliated her enough — surely he would not dare show his face to her ever in his life again? She didn't know that she could bring him harm, but she knew she felt she could when she recalled her fathers fangs across her shoulders, clearly intending to harm her. But it was not who she was running from that kept her moving, kept her going. It was the face of Indru. He had been why she returned at all, but she hadn't the slightest idea she'd be returning to... nothing. That he would be gone.

The tanned wolf continued to move, her motions jerky and pained, and although they were not smooth she had her own way of making them refined. Her body ached and her muscles groaned at the effort and exertion this journey had forced her to go through, and at long last Feather found distinguishable features that reminded her of the land she had found Indru on. It wasn't the same place, but she was close. Quite close. She hardly recognized where she was now, but was suddenly distracted by a masculine figure in the distance. Instantly, she shirked; her ears flattened atop her head in immediate subservience before remembering herself. She leaned forwards and breathed out heavily, watching her breath escape her. The wolf beyond her captivated her, for the while, before she thought of doing exactly what he was doing to gather her own bearings. She had to start somewhere.

She lowered her head and inhaled heartily, but she found she could smell nothing but of where the stranger must have came from.

<blockquote>The skipping sounds of leathered feet falling across the broken terrain didn't alert him until the nimble figure nearly darted before him. Not that the poignant sound of approach went unnoticed to the silky-furred soldier for ears swayed atop head nonchalantly until the wayward figure's compass did not sway from his destination. One lithe limb had plucked upwards to glide forward before all advances were left abandoned in the face of renewed dangers. Instinctively ears slid against a pristine white nape, offering a brush back of lips to reveal concave cutlery and pink-tinted gums. The exhaled sound of derision plumed from spliced jaws in a foggy cloud of condensation as moist, wet breath met the cold chill of approaching nightfall. As swift as the warning was displayed, it left just as quickly, erasing the emotions into a stony mask.

The reaction halted as the distinctly feminine figure offered a genuine display of submission and compliance. Hackles that stiffened upon a long, lean top-line eased flat once more and the halted step that had frozen him into position pulling him slightly ajar from her angle.

A female.

Nostrils covertly inhaled the surrounding scents with ease, tasting the unique differences in the landscape and the girl that had stumbled into his path. Her ears gave a supple shift and pale-steel eyes, rimmed in soft yellow, slipped against the flecked agouti markings enhancing her face. There was a curve to the top of her cheekbones and a petite nose that dotted the intriguing face. It was a surprising character to gaze upon considering the soldier's long years surrounded by stout, rugged females who often resembled the rest of the males in the tribe. Her build was completely different than the tank-like structures he was accustomed to viewing. Her shoulders tipped into a delicate peak before slicking down into a lanky back. Her haunches were lean and athletic amidst the pale, tan-splotched fur that outlined the rest of her figure.

Despite the initial greeting, jawline tilted in an effort to display intrigue without words. A lift of masculine muzzle offered a hidden greeting.</blockquote>

The Northwind female, of the Drylands, was all too distracted by his presence. It wasn't exactly a presence she wanted, because it turned her away from her task. Though as he wasn't heeding her, she supposed she should behave accordingly. It was only when she felt his eyes on her that her head was thrust upwards so she could meet his gaze with narrowed eyes. In truth, she didn't look the wolf directly in the eyes, not wishing to challenge whatever dignity he might have. Feather was no fool, and although she was healthy she certainly wasn't a fighter. As his eyes sampled her, hers did the same — he was a different breed of wolf. He was large, tough, masculine. His coat was a dusty grey, one she was not used to. She was used to darker shades, but his soothed her eyes and reminded her of the falling snowflakes that drifted and framed his face. His face.

His was directed to hers, and she caught some sort of question lingering in the air. It was unfortunate, then, that Feather found she could not read him. She was the worst reader in the world, only ever able to read body language. Her ears shifted and her nose flared, though she could catch nothing from him. Her voice came only then, smooth and lilting but all too quiet, hesitant and anxious in the presence of the opposite sex. Yes? She could only hope there had been a question at all, or else she would feel quite the fool. Her tail brushed gently against her hocks as she observed the strong male who looked to be made of stone. She hadn't even noted his previous challenge to her (which, unknowingly, she backed out of) having been so wrapped up in an event of the past that, despite the occasional anxious shift, she seemed almost... calm.

(This post was last modified: Nov 28, 2010, 03:36 AM by Feather.)

<blockquote>There appeared to be a hesitancy to her gaze, neither meeting his gaze nor looking away. Without a word the quiet male lowered his head to her soft-spoken question. It was without the bite of sarcasm or annoyance that her oath had been unwillingly crossed. Ears preened forth atop masculine head to catch the trill of sound from moisture-leaden lips. Just a hint of movement of her jowls in an agile slip of movement expelled the inquiry without any traces of hostility. She exuded curiosity.

He couldn't help but to portray the same.

Jawline tilted sidewards faintly, as though digesting her comment to find a suitable response. <b>"Nothing,"</b> he murmured in a thrum of deep baritone. The tone of voice was almost foreign to the road weary soldier and gaze parted, reluctantly, in attempts to ease her adventures without his impediment. It didn't stop steely yellow eyes from resurfacing upon her figure once again, abandoning the forced caricature of passive disinterest. Though a question burned upon salmon tongue lungs did not present the air to speak them.

Without further thought a paw stepped forward in a slow, methodical stride. The rather large gap that severed their contact was soon swallowed away with each, nimble paw that sought soil to erase the distance. Neck slithered lower in an innate posture of neutrality, ears tipping forth attentively in case she fled from his advances.</blockquote>

The moment he stepped closer was the moment her head drew sharply upwards and her eyes narrowed to gaze upon him with a look of disdain and worry in one go. But she did not shirk as her insides demanded to, she did not step away or flinch from his approach. Instead, she drew in a deep breath from her nostrils to check that he had not come from where she had been in search for her, and when she found that he wasn't the things she did smell intrigued her. Her ears shifted as a branch snapped gently beneath his foot, and for all of the death in the area she could only focus on the life he exuded. He was strong, sturdy, powerful... he somehow reminded her of what this Forest must have once been like. He was an enigma, though as much as she yearned to know him... there was too much on her mind. There was Indru.

Still, there was no harm in socializing, she supposed. She shifted her weight and her green eyes remained upon him, and she licked her chops prior to saying anything else. You are not from here, She stated, speaking slowly and carefully, not wishing to make the stranger whom was so close, very nearly too close (she stiffened), and Feather flared her nostrils and inhaled him without moving nearer. You smell like... I don't know, She stated dumbly. Although it was Winter, he smelled of something she had seen only then — the white rain, falling from the sky. Snow. Pure Winter.

<blockquote>
The tension that loomed as their company grew closer and closer into an awkward knot was palpable in the dew-leaden graveyard of trees. Every carefully placed guard hair lining her silhouette appeared on edge and sharp against the blurred background. The only focus the large, intrusive male had was upon the slight frame before him, gazing steadily upwards with eyes the very hint of a verdant oasis. The tint of green was tumultuous as though the very encounter was, perhaps, not the only concern on her mind. While nostrils aptly sampled the scents lingering within the heavy atmosphere his senses sifted carefully to the one he sought most. It was almost intoxicating with it's feminine charm and faraway places still clinging to the dampness of her paws.

<b>"I do not hail from 'I Don't Know',"</b> he stated rather matter-of-factly. While there was no amusement in the deep rumble of his voice the silver-lemon eyes that regarded her brandished slight amusement before the emotion was cleverly discarded. <b>"You are not from <i>here</i>,"</b> he countered quietly without a hint of actual question in his tone.</blockquote>