Private Roleplay Sunshine, she's here you can take a break

Outside of Avon borders but not by much! For Veðrfölnir Inka & Flóki

So he wasn't entirely sure the rules were so different here that he could just wander out past the scent markers, but... well, Persi didn't mean to! He might've been here a while, but the young boy still didn't know where the borders were! He didn't often come out this far, either, but Sparrow was ... somewhere; he wasn't entirely sure where, but somewhere else, it didn't matter. He was a big kid now, and he was learning lots of stuff here with Miss Fable and Miss Epona! He didn't need a babysitter all the time anymore!

At least he still knew the way back.

Besides, it was cool here! There were flowers everywhere, just like Mutter always said would grow come spring. He wondered if it was better down there, too -- he knew Apple was always worrying about them being cold, even though he never had any problems like that, but he couldn't be sure if it was just different here... or different all over the place, because of the portals! The adults were unclear about it when he was listening; sometimes he believed this was the way of the seasons, sometimes it was a plague they spoke of. It was a topic beyond him, frankly.
But boy, would Mutter be impressed when he came home speaking a new language, and of the fae, and with a head-start on the herbal things she said they would learn. Were his siblings learning, too? Was he missing out on things at home?

Persimmon couldn't really say why he wasn't ready to go home. Only that he wasn't, but he would! Soon.

Yeah, soon. It would always be home.

But there was a special something about being so... doted on. He rarely even was alone long enough to wander off like this! He loved it!

Yet the wandering ran deep.

Currently, he was enjoying splashing about along the rivers edge, squealing his delight as he hopped around slapping the water with apparent glee. It was warm, and the sky was bright, and his wounds were finally healing! Well, the wound itself. Fable said his leg would still take a while, but it didn't bother him as much as everyone else seemed to think it should. How silly of them!

SKILL: RANGER (1/5)

Veðrfölnir had wandered away from his siblings on purpose. He wasn’t going to go far, he told himself. Just far enough away that their voices thinned out behind him, swallowed up by the flowers and the bright, warm stretch of unfamiliar land beyond the scent-markers he was very much not supposed to cross. He knew that. Of course he knew that, but he was not a baby! He was seven months old and practically grown, and if there was something dangerous lurking out here, then someone had to find it first.

Preferably him.

So when the ruckus reached his ears — splashing and squealing breaking over the riverbank — Veðrfölnir froze with one paw lifted and his whole body tensing. His ears speared forward and his tail rose behind his back. At last, something! Some beast in the water, perhaps, some ugly river-monster with too many teeth and a taste for wolves that he could beat. His heart gave a fierce, delighted kick against his ribs as he lowered himself and crept closer through the grasses, fiery-orange coat flashing between the flowers despite his best effort to be sneaky.

He burst through the greenery ready to snarl.

And instead found… a pup.

A pup.

Veðrfölnir stopped so abruptly his paws skidded in the damp earth. His face twisted at once, disappointment crashing hard into suspicion. This was not a monster. This was not even a very impressive threat. It was just some boy splashing around at the river’s edge.

What? Veðrfölnir snapped, as though the boy had personally insulted him just by merely existing. He stomped closer, glaring down at the water, then at the stranger, then back at the water again, as if perhaps the monster might still crawl out and provide him an opportunity to look brave and frightening.

You sound like something dying, he accused, nose wrinkling. Why are you making all that noise?