Her sister had been born in mud and blood, at the price of that thing gnawing at her entrails, but Garance had been reborn in ash. There was no fire, no ember—only the black soot they left in their wake, with Garance at its heart. She was neither a phoenix nor the flame destined to light the path of lost souls.

She had coughed, her mouth filled with ash swallowed unwillingly, before shaking herself free, opening her eyes, and taking in the world around her. Everything appeared lush—opulently so. She had never witnessed anything like it. The world she had been torn from bore no resemblance to this cascade of color. If Louison had fled, surely this was not where she had come to rest. She was far too somber to find wonder in such blazing splendor. So was Garance.

Filthy from head to toe, unmoored, a grimace distorted her face. What creatures could possibly tread these lands?

snagging! if we could forward date it a bit that would be lovely ;)

---

the scent of soot reached him first.
not the kind born from hearth or warmth—no, this was something harsher. scorched. unnatural.
faust stood still at the river’s edge, half-shadowed beneath the broad shoulders of stone. the current whispered against his legs, cold and constant, but he did not move.
his eyes narrowed across the bank.
a figure.
foreign.
filthy.
she wore the ash like a second pelt, and it clung to her in streaks and flakes. he made no sound. the wind shifted, and he caught it again—her scent, yes, but layered beneath it something older. a memory.
tikigak.
his jaw flexed once.
then stillness again.
he said nothing.
he simply watched.

cameo, for now! Tikigâk is around! Also, Hunter skill!

---

They had rest within the Spirited Highlands the night prior—that evening, they would move on to explore the lands they had happened upon. Tikigâk felt the heat here was oppressive—coupled with her season, Tikigâk thought it near unbearable. To alleviate this in the day, a cool water source was found.

Tikigâk was downstream—while her mate watched, she hunted for fish. It was a morsel she had not eaten in some time, but salmon was something she then craved. A flash within the water revealed the presence of the fish, but Tikigâk remained perfectly still, waiting. She maintained this stillness for some time—a stony feature, fixed in its place.

It might have been minutes, it might have been an hour. Time felt relative during the hunt, and locked on her task Tikigâk had not watched the shadows shift around her that would give an answer to this. The sun still stretched over the waterway, and Tikigâk lingered in a place where shade was offered so that she herself would not be in its light. A moment came where Tikigâk surged forward to capture her quarry—her broad muzzle became a spear as it cut through the water, teeth gripping the salmon that had grown too comfortable with her presence. She tossed it on the bank behind her, watching for another. They two had found a sliver of water that slowed from the stones placed in the earth, interrupting the current—but the rest? One could be easily swept away.

A scent on the wind—she turned her head to see her mate recognize it, too. Something different and out of place. Across the way was another wolf—her ears pricked forward, alert. A good hunter, to have approached without notice. But the scents that rolled from the other were entirely out of place.

Tikigâk felt her mates attention upon the stranger, a watchful guardian. Tikigâk shifted her attention briefly to the sky before it returned to the water as to continue her hunt, though one ear remained cupped toward the stranger. Soon, the sun would set—then they would move on.

---

no prob for me!

A man and his bitch in heat. Their vile, displeasing stench had not reached her nose at once—for there was that layer of grease clinging to her skin, clouding her senses, rising to her head. But once she had caught the scent, it was all she could smell.

And how could she have missed them? Two giants. Each as monstrously tall as the other. To find herself so near these lust-drunk colossi had all the makings of a mortal snare for Garance.

They watched—he, above all—but not with the gaze men usually cast upon her. He was with his catch of the moment, and Garance was far from able to rival the charms of such a siren, however monstrous she appeared in her eyes.

Slowly, with the precision of a scalpel, the viper slid forward under the colossus’s gaze—attentive, silent, like him. She studied every inch of his being, her languid eyes sweeping over him with what seemed a natural lasciviousness. And yet, she knew too well: this was no hour for honeyed smiles or idle dalliance.

What truly drew her was the water. The soot on her fur felt light, yet within it she carried a crushing weight—one that clenched at her throat and could be exorcised only by the clear purity of the river.

Carefully, her gaze still locked on the man in black, Garance managed to take her first few sips from the stream.

Though she seemed watchful, the gentle viper had not taken care to keep her distance from the pair. It even seemed she had, quite deliberately, drawn closer—her tail swaying behind her like the rattle of a desert snake...

SKILL Ranger 2/5

---

the air shifted—an unfamiliar shape against a backdrop of what had become familiar: the thunder of water over stone, the rise and fall of tikigâk’s shoulders as she stalked, river-wet and hot with season, and the slow turn of the highlands beneath spring’s bloom. he’d felt the presence before he saw it. something low, coiling. a step too soft to be accidental.
when his eyes found the stranger, the weight of them stayed there. heavy. unmoved.
she was not like the others who had passed them by. she came too close. too knowingly. her gaze spoke of games, of riddles best left unanswered. and faust, carved of colder things, had no patience for riddles.
he moved downriver a pace, positioning himself above her in plain view. the dark tower of him glinted against the sun where it slipped between pine and mist, and still, he said nothing.
but then—he hiked a leg.
the stream below steamed where his piss struck the stone, scent marking their claim with brute, undeniable force. this is mine, the act said. all of it. the water, the earth, the woman who pulls fish from the shallows. there was no need for words.
a low growl rumbled deep in his chest. he did not bare his teeth. there was no flash of white, no raised hackles—just the certainty of a man who would kill without hesitation if the air shifted wrong.
he glanced once to tikigâk, then back to the stranger.
she could drink.

---

I went ahead and replied since Tikigâk is just making a cameo for now, but let me know if you’d rather I wait for your turn! <3

A man? No—rather an animal, coarse and primal. A beast driven by purpose, with nothing to gain from angering his whore. A passion born solely from the immutable forces of Mother Nature, expressed in a manner Garance had seldom witnessed, yet one she knew, deep within, to be perilous. Men had ever been but creatures, slaves to their impulses and their need to assert dominion—over everything, over everyone. This colossus was no exception; why should he be?

Despite the disgust his gesture had provoked in her, Garance had finished quenching her thirst, then raised her head to face the wild man. A savage allure, hypnotic in its rawness—a golem animated by primal force, whom she would have delighted to see kneeling at her feet. The thought stirred in her another instinct, equally feral. Only her eyes betrayed a flicker of amusement, while the rest of her face remained as cold and unyielding as marble.

A silent exchange, yet brimming with unspoken dialogue—the language of beasts. A return to the source, thrilling her to the core. Where others sought their fill of adrenaline through grander spectacles, Garance was content to move among beasts, a trembling doe threading her way through predators. But between these two creatures, she would not risk stepping in.

She stood motionless, entranced, anchored on steady limbs, attuned to the shifting winds, to the tension, and to the fraying patience of the two beasts before her.

SKILL ranger 4/5

---

faust did not move.
he watched her with the same flat, hard gaze he gave everything else that crossed his path—a cold, weighing look that made no promises of welcome. tikigâk's heat-slicked form brushed against him, steadying the powerful tension that had gathered in his chest like a storm held on a tight rein. his ears flicked once toward his mate, acknowledging her presence without looking away from the stranger.
the woman had drunk, had dared to lift her head and meet his stare. he saw the flicker in her eyes—amusement, arrogance, something that stirred faint embers of warning in the back of his mind. faust exhaled through his nose, slow and heavy, a sound more animal than man, more statement than threat.
he did not speak. there was no need. the stiffness of his shoulders, the rooted way he stood between her and tikigâk, the casual shift of weight that placed him more firmly in her path—all of it made clear: he had no interest in conversation.
only that she understood her place here. and it was not at his side.
without breaking his stare, faust's tail rose stiff behind him, a slow rise of banner of unyielding claim. not a warning. a fact. the mountains called them northward, and he would waste no more breath on those who were not part of that climb.
he waited a beat longer, ensuring the message was driven home, before a grunt low in his chest signaled to tikigâk. ready to move. ready to leave the viper to her games and her hollow gaze. he had a summit to claim—and no patience for pretty distractions.

---

Exit Garance! Thanks for joining! <3
I hope to cross your path again in the future tehehe!

As consumed as she had been, she had to finally concede that the beast-man had shown her, time and again, that she would be wiser not to defy him — nor his monstrous whore. Once again, she was no match, neither for the intoxicating fragrance exuding from the bewitching creature — a perfume she, as a woman, could only loathe — nor for the colossus, ready to do anything to prove himself worthy of having his monsteress open her thighs to him.
Garance longed to cross paths with the beast again, when he would be less preoccupied. Men repulsed her; those who were otherwise engaged, all the more so — yet the fixation endured...

A sigh, the ghost of a bitter chuckle, slipped from her nostrils; her ears pressed against her neck, shoulders slumped, gaze still riveted on the towering figures. Slowly, she slipped into the gloom, melding with the thickets until she vanished from their sight...

SKILL Ranger 5/5

---

faust watched her go. no words passed his mouth, only the steady tracking of his eyes as the blonde woman melted back into the trees. she had been a flash of trouble from the start — sharp-toothed, restless. not worth blood today.
the cold shifted around him. faust exhaled through his nose, low and heavy, and turned his shoulder against the place she had been. he had no use for the broken things that crept after men like shadows. he chose life, not ghosts.
he found tikigâk’s gaze easily, as he always did. a tilt of his head was all it took, the unspoken call to move. they had burned enough time here. the land ahead was wide, and there were valleys that called to him for a good hunt.
without another glance back, faust started down the slope, dark against the dying light. the woman and her poison scent could rot in the thickets for all he cared. he had built his life on survival, and the only future worth anything stood walking at his side.

one more for hunter skill—last from me!

---

Tikigâk, in the meantime, remained productive. Only when the woman moved slowly forward did the she-wolf pause, her sharp gaze landing upon the other. Her mate could handle the woman easily independently, but he would not need to—Tikigâk would aid him in any kill that was for their family. She would not be the first—only the first of her kind. Caribou, ox, cougar, wolf… whatever the quarry or the foe, together they two would cut it down.

She stared for too long, and her mate made his literal mark. Tikigâk, too, kicked the earth behind her, scuffing it and spreading more of her scent.

And then she returned to the hunt, as the other wasted their own time. Tikigâk watched the waters again, and soon enough another salmon found itself between her forelegs and then snared betwixt her teeth. She flung the flopping thing to the shore and killed it quickly after, her gaze turning to the shadows the stranger had retreated within before looking to meet the gaze of her mate.

Time to move on. She took the kills into her mouth and moved with him—shoulder to shoulder, ear to ear, as they always would. When next they paused they could eat the food she had caught for them, but other hunters might have interest in the waters and what it could offer. Better to be away from it sooner rather than later, and eat on the go.

Down the slope did she follow him, mouth full and their shared bond strengthened.