Kettle Pot Pond you gotta help me see

@Lachesis only || Afternoon, Sunny

Traveling was always easier for Regi when the sun was out. When the foul fog had lifted this morning and the clouds made way was when he had finally got up from his bedding spot to keep exploring the area. He felt really lucky that this place was rather flat landed. Even with pretty bad vision days like today seemed easier to navigate. Somewhere in the distance was a reflection on the ground. Large in size from what he could tell.

He picked up his pace some more to close the final stretch of distance between him and the increasingly larger shiny spot of land. The closer he got the more he could tell what he was looking at. Water! Finally! His tail swayed behind his short and stocky form with a certain eagerness and giddiness. He did his best to get there speedy and fast, stumbling here and there. Once he reached the shores he didn't bound right into the likely cool water. Reginald carefully lowered a paw to dip into the liquid.

With his face close to the surface he could see the ripples move from his little bit of force given. His tail picked up its wags again at a more rapid pace. This was just perfect!

Being holed up inside the forest was becoming too much for the anxious leader. The grief was slowly subsiding but with Kisla’s scent still lingering in the Kingswood it was difficult to forget the tragedy they had endured only weeks ago. Water was his best source of comfort and while Lachesis usually opted for the lake south of the Kingswood he felt as though he was overworking the quiet shores. He had already burdened the smooth surface of the lake with enough issues; it was time to seek refuge elsewhere. Just for today, he assured his troubled mind as he headed into the lowlands, his long legs carrying him quickly over the barren ground.


Perhaps, subconsciously, he was hoping to run into Lekalta for he wondered just how far she had run. He was confident that the Baranski had managed to escape the same fate as her mother, which was why it was so puzzling that she had not yet returned to Hearthwood. It did make sense, as both her parents had died in the Kingswood. She had fled from the river once before, after her father’s death, so it was possible that she was repeating the past…

He just hoped she was safe, even if she did not decide to return. Her safety was all that mattered.

He was not surprised to see another at the edge of the pond as he approarched. Immediately his chartreuse gaze narrowed—the pale male’s scent was devoid of pack. It had been some time since Lachesis had encountered a loner in the tundra, for most wolves preferred to stick close to the forests of the south. “Afternoon,” he greeted warmly once he approached the water’s edge, his paws stopping at a respectful distance away from the stranger.

stick with those who stick with you

Reginald was so amused with the ripples he had made that the voice had caught him off guard. His tail still swayed and a smile still tugged on his inky lips. Silver eyes look up at the ghastly figure not too far from him. He could make out the basic details of him, the long legs and willowy figure, pale fur. There were other things the male's scent gave away. Older, male, and smelling heavily of others. Then there were some things that Regi couldn't pick out. The good details like eye color or the way his fur laid across his form. But such was life for the poor sighted male.

"Afternoons." He greeted back warmly as he moved back away from the water. His paw was still damp from the little drop into the liquid but that could be taken care of later. He had company now after all! "Where ya froms?" Reginald asked as he leaned back onto his rear. There was nothing wrong with getting comfortable so soon. He felt as though if the man had wanted to strike him, he could have already done so. Yet his past experience had taught him to never be too trusting and assuming of others.

Maybe he could get some information out of this fella. Might help him learn how to better navigate this place and get what he wanted.

Heads up - this wolf is near-sighted!

Lachesis had been so used to being accompanied by his packmates and being surrounded by those who were familiar to him it felt odd being in the presence of a stranger. To think, years ago, when he was nothing but a bag of bones he used to shy away from strangers—feral wolves—and now he was willingly greeting them, eager to learn more about them. He still had his moments, where he preferred to be alone and kept to himself, but he doubted those traits would ever disappear.

The loner did not appear to be a threat. He remained at the edge of the lake, content in the distance Lachesis had provided them, and greeted the river leader in the same warm tone he’d used. Where ya froms? Small talk—Lachesis’ favourite. He offered the pale loner a bright smile as he nodded over his shoulder, completely unaware that he was nothing but a blur to the wolf. “From the forest east of here,” he added as a verbal response, his chartreuse gaze returning to the loner. “And you, where are you from?” He asked, curious as to how the male had managed to stumble upon the lands of Lore. Had it been deliberate or accidental? Was he seeking a pack or was he scouting the lands to figure out where he wanted to live—if he chose to stay.

stick with those who stick with you

There is a deer that was killed by a lynx nearby. +10 Health

sow hid lach from me im sorry )): @Lachesis

All those polite little physical signs were lost on the Goliger male but still, that lazy smile sat on his pale face with ease. He could tell that the pale blurry man had moved his head but it was just that. A blur. And the forest in the distance wasn't noticeable to Reginald like it was to Lachesis. Or any other wolf for that matter.

"Originally far norths." His shoulders shrugged softly, not giving away too many details on where he'd been and where he was going. Granted the latter Regi wasn't exactly sure about. He didn't really know where he was right now or which direction he was exactly heading. At least he had been told there was a forest east. He'd store that tidbit of information away in his mind in case he happened to find himself in a forest later on.

Ah, he'd forgotten something! "I'ms Reginald." His tail swished softly against the ground. The pale Arctic male left it open for the other pale form to introduce himself. It was the polite thing to do after all. While Regi might not be the most well-mannered wolf around he certainly did hold a few things that could be considered polite close to his moral list.

Heads up - this wolf is near-sighted!

<33333 is ok @Reginald

Far north. His ears twitched in interest, his muzzle canted slightly to the side. It had been so long since the ghost had been in the north—just over four years. He couldn’t help but wonder how much had changed in his absence. Were his parents and siblings still behind the never-ending fence, blissfully unaware of the world beyond? Or had they, too, escaped the two-legs and forged a life for themselves? Lachesis was not sure he would ever find out—not unless one of them wound up in the lands of Lore. He thought about them often but he had no desire to return. Hearthwood needed him; Lilya and the twins needed him. The idea of abandoning them was repulsive and left a bitter taste in his mouth. Despite being reluctant at first, the willowy ghost had grown happy here. There was no returning to the far north—not now, not ever.

“I came from the north, as well, before settling here,” he added, offering the pale loner a small, friendly grin. The wolf seemed harmless, so the alpha allowed his shoulders to drop, his tail swaying gently behind his hindquarters. “My name’s Lachesis,” he quipped in response to the male’s introduction. “Have you seen much of these lands since you’ve arrived?” He asked, unaware of the irony of his statement.

stick with those who stick with you

Another Northern. How splendid, honestly! Reginald wondered just how far this fella had come from. Of course, the younger male's journeys had carried him far from his original homelands he wondered if he would even be able to find his way back. That was if he actually felt a desire to ever return. It wasn't like anyone likely missed him. With his poor vision, he had been unwanted from the start. The foul memories caused a bitter taste to bubble up and he had to fight it. The last thing he wanted to do was make this kind fella think he felt bad about him.

"Lachesis," Reginald tried out the name on his own tongue as his tail gave a few thumps. Now this blur had a name! He stored the name with the scent in the corner of his mind for possible later use. Maybe this Lachesis man would be of use later to some likely less than noble cause (because Regi was not a man of noble, righteous work).

His head tipped at the question and he offered a short hum. "I've beens in the large fields over theres." His head nodded back towards the Lowlands. He supposed the question really couldn't be answered with that though, could it? Reginald had no idea how big exactly these lands were and thus he couldn't say if he had seen much of them. Granted those barren, grassy, rocky lands had seemed almost endless.

Heads up - this wolf is near-sighted!

It was apparent that the pale wolf had not explored much of the Lore yet. Most wolves came from the lands north of the lowlands; first stepping into the expanse before heading south, into the forests that enveloped most of territories. Lachesis and Anastasia had done the same—arriving from the north and making their way down through the different landscapes, assessing them and deciding where would be best for them to settle down. They had gone to the most southern corner of the Lore, calling the Fen home for a short period of time before they headed back north, seeking refuge in the Baranski’s former pack. Darkwater Rapids. It had not been home for long, as a flood had taken it away from the pack, separating most of them. The group then headed east before being sent back to the north, but XIX was happy to be back in the tundra. It wasn’t the same as the Yukon, but it fared well for the Arctic.

“Are you headed anywhere in particular?” He asked, head tipped to the side as curiosity pushed the words off his tongue. “Perhaps I can point you in the right direction.” Most wolves were not keen on settling into a pack so soon after arriving, as they were typically running from a previous pack. The ghost would not push Hearthwood on him—not unless he announced it was a home he was looking for. 

stick with those who stick with you

"No wheres in particular." His shoulders rolled as the pale figure gave some friendly chatter. "I'ms open tos suggestions, though." The pale man admitted with a soft smile. If someone more experienced could offer places for him to visit he might feel more comfortable traipsing around. That was if he didn't get lost or take a wrong turn in some woods.

"This place is nice thoughs." The Goliger male said. While he couldn't likely see it all the same as the other pale figure, it was still nice. Bodies of water were always inviting to Reginald. Maybe it was because they reminded him of home. Sure he had lived practically right on top of the mountains but there had been a nice big lake about a day's stretch away. Frozen thick most of the year but made for a nice swim in the summer months.

Heads up - this wolf is near-sighted!