Skill: N/A
Title: Dream A Little Dream Of Me
Valeska

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Cvetka couldn't find the strength for her customary nightly walk. The stars were enshrouded by a layer of cloud, and the sky was left as little more than sheer gloom. The deep darkness of the world left the girl feeling a modicum of dread. It was too dark. When she looked up, all she could see was the harrowing sight of nothing.

She hobbled out of a small burrow, bits of dried roots and leaves strewn over her coat. Her limb remained weak and sore, warning her against overuse—lest she injure it again.

She paused, raising her injured limb out of habit. Her nostrils twitched against the atmosphere and sought out something to eat. Alas. The air held no scent, save for the subtle musk of impending rain.

Cvetka's lips stretched out in discontentment. Her hind limb stomped lightly against the ground in an idle motion filled with withheld frustration.

She was so useless. Devoid of thought, character, opinions. Reduced to scrambling at stronger wolves' feet and whining for attention like a kicked puppy.

Cvetka paced the small clearing in a tight circle, stomping down the brittle grass to rest once again. There wasn't much else she could do.

Valeska was a creature of the sun. She rose with its first dim rays as they touched upon the high mountain peaks surrounding the Respite, and laid herself to rest with the horizon's fading light as it gave way to the stars and inky darkness of night. For as long as she could remember, it had always been this way; her mate's habits were wholly inverse by comparison, which made it a miracle they were able to have such a loving relationship at all given their opposing schedules.

She ambled across half-melted fields of snow toward the dens, yawning widely. The trip to and from Northfall had, for once, fully exhausted the Priestess as she gratefully settled back into her former routine again, and she was looking forward to a long night of rest.

A pacing figure caught her attention close by. She wasn't quite familiar with the silhouette; they seemed agitated for some reason, tamping down a clearing with rigid intent.

Valeska altered her course.

Is something the matter? she called out curiously. It was hard to make out the wolf's features in the fading light of dusk, caught between that magic hour where shadows could not yet fully take shape and the residual light from the sunset made it difficult to adjust. You seem to be very angry with the dirt. Do you need help punishing it?

It was a sincere question. Valeska was fully prepared to throw herself into whatever therapy the woman seemed to need; that was just the sort of creature she was.

Cvetka rolled to be in heat (I am so sorry)

Skill: N/A

---

Caught off guard, the girl jumped. Her ears pinned back and she bristled momentarily, before regaining her composure and letting out a soft huff.

The newcomer was gray. With long-haired paws and ear tufts, golden eyes, and silver fur accented by deeper slate. Similar to herself in height, albeit seemingly slightly taller.

Amaris?

No. Amaris wasn't a woman, and Amaris wasn't short.

'Is something the matter?' Confused, Cvetka tilted her head over and flicked her ears forward. 'You seem to be very angry with the dirt. Do you need help punishing it?'

Punish? The dirt?

Cvetka was perplexed, to say the least. Punish...? She mumbled, Нет, (No,) I am trying to rest. The young woman turned back around and continued to haphazardly trample over the wizened turf. The grass is very... itchy.

Eventually, she flopped down onto her flank with a gruff sigh. The stars were gone. Her mind was hazed—even more so than usual—and she was tired. Yet, the prickly blades of grass continued to wedge against her sides.

As Valeska neared the stranger, her nose tingled as a familiar, albeit startling scent wafted up to tickle her olfactory senses. She tried to push it away, but as she closed the distance between them, the woman's aroma became more and more pungent - almost sweet - and she cleared her throat awkwardly as if to distract attention away from the elephant in the room.

Despite her increasing years, she had only engaged in the passionate, visceral act of sex once in her life with a charming wolf named Rhelenso (she pointedly did not include Ragnar in this count; what he had shared with herself and Amaranth had been special and holy, and through sacred ritual had delivered them their first litter - it was not merely fucking).

What knowledge she held on the subject was limited to only the little her foggy memory could recall from the event, which was probably for the best, as Amaranth likely would have pulled what remained of her brain matter out from her nostrils like spaghetti noodles if she thought Valeska hadn't entirely purged the memory of Rhelenso.

She didn't think of him often at all, really - just enough to remember what purpose that decidedly feminine scent served.

You said Нет (no) just now, she said curiously, Вы знаете этот язык? (You know this tongue?)

How intriguing!

Well, if the grass is itchy, then I should recommend one of the dens, Valeska replied. It is late, and you seem... lost. We do not mind guests, so long as they are kind.

The woman rolled onto her side with a beleaguered sound, skin twitching with barely-disguised agitation as she allowed the grass to further torment her. Valeska, having an intelligent thought for the first time in four days, thought it might be serving her as a distraction against the maddening heat-scent that emanated from her person.

Have you met - anyone here, yet?

Skill: N/A

---

Her tone had changed.

Cvetka watched the stranger speak, her ears loosely angled back. She raised her head and pricked her ears again at the sound of her question, however.

...да, это мой родной язык (...yeah, this is my native language). She shuffled slightly, curling her tail in front of her with a sigh.

Cvetka was about to resume her assault against the turf, interrupted by the older woman's offer. 'Well, if the grass is itchy, then I should recommend one of the dens. It is late, and you seem... lost. We do not mind guests, so long as they are kind.' Oh. She hoisted herself onto her haunches and frowned. Okay.

The woman was disconcerted—by the ache that wracked her body, her own intoxicatingly sweet scent. She wanted it all to simply go away.

Alas. It wasn't that simple.

Cerulean eyes rose to meet Valeska's as she spoke. 'Have you met - anyone here, yet?' For a moment, she paused to think.

...I've met... Cyrus. And I've met Aelia, and I've met Raum... Would she even know Raum? She'd met him in a strange world—one that was in mid-spring, not late winter. And... Amaris. Amaris. She'd certainly met Amaris.

Her eyes closed for a moment. I've been here for... she paused. Time had drug on endlessly, so it felt, during her time in Fate's Respite. ...a month. A month and a half, perhaps.

Sacred Wolf Mother. Was she so out of touch that a fully grown wolf could exist beyond her detection for a month and a half? Where was her mind, lately? How had she not seen her, scented her?

Especially... like this.

The response, although brief, confirmed that the woman had already acquainted herself with not one, but several members of the pack. There was a hint of hesitation when she mentioned Amaris, and Valeska pursed her lips as she tried to understand what underlying meaning accompanied it.

It wasn't really known to her, but two out of her three sons were chronically flirtatious and apparently quite successful in these endeavors. Dimitri and Amaris were prolific in both their experiences and attempts, to the point where she didn't even know she already had grandchildren roaming around in the world.

Interesting that it was the silver ones. Alder would not have struck her as the virgin of the trio.

If only she knew.

Actually, it was better she didn't.

Nobody likes to think of their kids doing that sort of stuff.

Well, my name is Valeska, she said, rallying quickly as she put the Amaris Tone Question into a dark box at the back of her mind. It was probably nothing. You have met two of my children, then; Aelia and Amaris are our youngest.

She would pointedly not mention Amaya, as it was too soon to frighten her in that way.

Where are you from?

Skill: N/A

---

Valeska, the wolfdog softly repeated with a nod, I see... So, this was the mother of Amaris and Aelia—her head tilted with interest. I did not realize you were their mother, but... she paused. The silvers that streaked across the she-wolf's body... ...it makes a lot of sense.

She couldn't help but freeze at the question. Where are you from? Her blue eyes narrowed, but for a second—where was she from...?

Silence lingered for disconcertingly long. Eventually, the rosy woman snapped out of her own stupor and whipped her head up once again. Er... I'm... unsure, she admitted, all I know is that I'm not from... here. An awkward chuckle.

Her head slowly turned to face the ground, gaze averted to rest upon the grass. I apologize that you must see me this way, she muttered, I am not usually like this. Her long, pluming tail curled to rest against her thighs. It was all far too confusing.

The first half of Cvetka's sentence gave her a sparkle of pride ('she did not realize I was a mother! I still have the trim figure of my youth!' was her fervent thought), but the feeling quickly gave way to harsh reality as she finished her assessment.

'It makes sense', Cvetka said as her eyes roved the older wolf's form. Valeska cast a crestfallen glance toward her own midsection, stout and made to appear even thicker with her long fur coat.

Well, it was nice to dream for a moment.

Not from here, every stranger always said. It had been many moons since she had given up on the idea of native wolves in this land, but the question still sprang to her lips as easily as it ever had, an old habit she couldn't shake. Perhaps some small part of her still hoped that one day, a wolf would appear with the answers to this place and its origins...

If it makes you feel better, Valeska began with a sheepish grin, I am always this way.

Although it changed absolutely nothing in the way she behaved, she was very aware of how others viewed her. Loud, boisterous, nosy, borderline obnoxious - but it came from a place of good intent.

Surely that counted for something.

Well, you may stay as long as you like, she said genially. Or you may also come and go as you please. It is no matter to Elysium, although if you do intend to remain for some time, it is hoped you might contribute to the wellfare of our pack and its resources.

Which, admittedly, were a little more sparse than usual.