Pastel Highlands like your girls insane

I let it fall, my heart

set fire to the rain

Brielle's eyes followed Anatole's confident stride as they approached the frostbitten deer, the remnants of a once majestic creature. The raven's sharp gaze bore into her, and a shiver ran down her spine, but Anatole's reassurance echoed in her mind. She straightened her posture, emulating her brother's assertive stance, determined not to let the corvid intimidate her.

As Anatole circled to one side, Brielle held her ground, meeting the raven's keen eyes with a mixture of curiosity and respect. She could feel the pulse of the wilderness around them, the primal energy that connected all living beings. In that moment, she understood Anatole's unspoken lesson – a lesson of strength, resilience, and asserting their place in the natural order.

With a slow and deliberate movement, Brielle extended a paw forward, testing the ground beneath her. The raven cawed again, its warning echoing through the Highland air. Brielle maintained eye contact, a silent acknowledgment of the boundaries between predator and scavenger. She hoped for Anatole's approval, a subtle nod that spoke volumes in the language of their shared instincts.

As they began to feast on the remains of the deer, Brielle felt a surge of gratitude for her brother's guidance. The taste of the kill was satisfying, not just for the nourishment it provided but for the validation of their abilities as wolves. She glanced at Anatole between bites, trying for a silent exchange of understanding and camaraderie.

The sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a warm glow on the siblings as they shared this primal moment. With a contented sigh, she marveled at the vastness of the Highlands. It was not perfect, not without her parents... but it was home... for now... until they found something more stable.

(// Tasha

Anatole stood, watching as Brielle made her way towards him. He observed as she imitated his poise, letting her movements speak for her. Predator versus scavenger, there was an unspoken and innate hierarchy involved. An instinctive dance.

Much to his sibling's delight, he gave her what she had hoped for. Something Adelard often did in place of frivolous praise. A dip of his head in a nod. His tail even gave a low wag. Once satisfied that the bird kept its distance, he set his sights on a bit of bone and meat, whatever he could get to. Though, he knew better than to gorge himself. They had yet to run into a pack or a proper place to spend the night, and a full belly never made travel easy.

In the middle of breaking something, cartilage or bone or whatever, in his jaws, Brielle held his gaze. A brow rose, but the twinkle in her eye was a bid for connection. His tongue curled up against his muzzle, wiping some blood away. "Did good, kiddo," he encouraged. "Keep it up."

Anatole waited for the youth to finish, reclining like a sphinx to signal that they were in no rush. A yawn parted his maw as Brielle sighed. He blinked, following her gaze to the sight of the Highlands before settling on the side of her face. A smile tugged at his face and he had to admire her sense of wonder. Where Woya had intended to take them and where Adelard had run off to didn't matter in that moment. Brielle was now everything to him. She was every bit of the parents he remembered... well, sans all the disciplinary stuff.

He pushed himself up to sit, stretching his neck and shoulders in the process. "Whenever you're ready to get a move on, we'll head out," his eyes went to the forest in the distance, the raven forgotten. "Least we can make it well into the woods by nightfall..."

there used to be a greying tower
ANATOLE GERAU
alone on the sea