Thread Title: Shrek: 「 Hallelujah 」
Skill : 「none」

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As the sky grew heavy with a thick layer of pewter clouds, Rouche found himself seeking a place of momentary respite. Long, relaxed strides carried him through overgrown strands of flowing grass. He’d take moments to pause, every so often, scanning the nearby area as he took note of red petals decorating the low-hanging wisteria. A deep bellied exhale pressed out of his nose as he began to slink closer to the tree trunks, scouting out an area with good coverage from the approaching storm.

By time the first rain droplets fell, Rouche was already comfortably seated beneath a particularly well-filled bough. It sounded refreshing and lulled him into a state of comfort, the pitter-pattering of rain against leaves, stone, and anything else that was openly exposed.

Gradually, the man slid down until he was lounging on his side, emerald eyes heavily lidded and calmly watching the storm unfold.

Skill:—[0/5]

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Rain may as well be just about the last damn thing she needed. Citlali's breath hitched as she cautiously stepped over the forest floor, her limbs pawing at every obstacle lest she fall over.

Unfortunately, sightless groping could only get her so far. Her paw got caught against a root, and down did she fall, descending onto the damp woodland floor like a dove shot mid-flight. Fur of silver and ivory spilled around her frame.

Frustration filled her gaze, her brows furrowed—this was all too much. This new realm she had to familiarize herself with, this time alone—no one was around to help her walk, to bring her food, which she could not hunt herself. Not even to tell her whether a berry was poisonous or not, rendering foraging useless.

Her limbs bunched together. Her chin rested upon her paws.

Just when everything couldn't possibly seem any worse, down fell the rain, seeping into her fur and nipping her tender skin with frigid moisture.

Skill : 「None」

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The soft, rhythmic sound of falling rain was continuous and gentle. Slowly Rouche’s eyes shut, his ears partially cupped forward to listen a bit more closely. It was calming and a nice break from the unanswered questions that still swirled in his mind following the whole altercation that resulted in this new life. It began to feel like peace would be a thing of the past as Rouche attempted to wrap his head around the logistics of the reality he found himself within.

Moments like this were priceless.

However, the tranquility of the scene shattered in a mere moment, the quiet of rainfall drowned out by the sound of a thud. It was as if someone had carried something heavy then carelessly dropped it into the wet grass and mud.

Green eyes opened without haste, regardless of pace they began to instinctively scan for the source. It hadn’t taken long to spot them: a figure of alabaster and silver against the vibrant backdrop of a forest’s peak in spring. Rouche was silent, for a moment, simply choosing to observe before all else.

She was curled in on herself, nestled within the roots of the surrounding wisteria. The placement felt strange, based on the way rain was pelting her so relentlessly. Was she possibly stuck? Or perhaps even injured and unable to move to better coverage?

Miss? he called out clearly, voice even if not a bit curious. You are not injured, are you? My name is Rouche, I’m a practicing herbalist, maybe a sprain? Maybe a sickness? It was impossible to tell without examining closer.

Skill:—[0/5]

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Footfalls were usually easy to detect against any material. That was the one way she could tell when one approached—the rhythmic thrum of their feet pressing into the earth.

Yet, now, as the torrential rain danced along the forest floor with a cacophonous pitter-patter, she could not hear the stranger. Not until his soft voice rang out into the woods, mild in tone and temper. Citlali's ears sprang up, her head rose within a heartbeat. Pale eyes skittered over the ground innately, though it did nothing to help pinpoint where this voice had called out from.

A pale paw braced itself against the sodden ground, prepared to rise at a moment's notice. No, not injured, perhaps, save for a few bruises she'd collected from stumbling about. I'm alright. I don't need any herbs. She drew in a quiet breath, muscles still tense.

There was no ill intent in the sire's voice. That much, she could trust—yet, deep down, there remained the deep-seated worry of ulterior motives. Citlali was vulnerable—always. Wherever she may be, whoever may be around her, there will always be the opportunity for the cruel to grasp her throat with their teeth. There would be nothing she could do to avoid it.

The wolfdog's limbs pressed into the ground, and slowly, she rose. Her tail was taut, coiled over her hips, and whisking by her hocks with worry.

Skill : 「 None */5 」

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Rouche’s ears were cupped forward, while his body remained unnaturally still, his posture was still calm and relaxed. The only thing that stirred up faint traces of tension was the festering worry regarding the woman’s physical state and health. The moment she spoke, he felt himself release a breath of relief. She was uninjured and not in need of medical attention, encouraging a cordial wave of his tail to display the reassurance he felt.

The situation still felt subtly unnerving. Why was she nestled within the roots, exposed to the elements? While he understood not everyone was the same, and some enjoyed the sensation of extreme weather; This woman seemed nearly defeated as she lay there.

Was it rude to question her or her motives? Likely so. Rouche held his tongue on the matter. While I adore my profession dearly, I am always thankful when my talents are not needed. I’m relieved to hear you are uninjured, miss, a warm smile laced with the familiarity of a good friend spread to his lips.

Green eyes followed her motions carefully, just being sure that there was nothing to fear. A realization was made, a discovery that possibly should have been more obvious considering his occupation. Rouche caught a glimpse of her eyes, the pupil of each milky and fogged over. The woman who lay in the rain was blind—likely fully blind.

I—I apologize for my rudeness, miss, but… how was he even meant to inquire of such personal subjects? Are you alone? I am familiar with blindness. I understand the challenges you may be facing, how was she hunting? Where was her intended destination? She must not have been able to maneuver the lifted tree roots.

Before all else, please, allow me— Rouche took gentle steps forward, grazing his nose against her shoulder, enough to show his location but not invade her personal space too heavily. Trust my guidance, let us escape the rain, miss. I will move as slowly and as carefully as you need, Rouche knew he was asking for a lot of trust, but he hoped she’d allow him to aid her.

Skill:—[0/5]

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With paws gingerly tucked against her chest, Citlali heeded the man's words—he was a medic, so it appeared. How curious. Huitzilin knew well of the herbs, yet the interest could hardly be called a profession. The woman calmed herself, sucking in a deep breath and coiling her tail around her rump.

'I—I apologize for my rudeness, miss, but...' Her head canted, skepticism growing in her taut visage. 'Are you alone? I am familiar with blindness. I understand the challenges you may be facing.' Oh. That wasn't rude.

How strange it was that people would always be afraid to speak of the subject. It was no insult to call her blind—for she was. She always would be doomed to see naught but the shift between light and dark. It seems that I am, she remarked, ears swiveling about as though to listen for Naira. She would not be here. I was not before, but... But she found herself in some strange, foreign world. How was she to explain that to a stranger?

His nose brushed against her shoulder, a gentle action, one she could easily recognize as benevolent. Still, she shuddered, a compulsive reaction. 'Trust my guidance, let us escape the rain, miss. I will move as slowly and as carefully as you need.' I trust you, she murmured, bracing her hind limbs against the sodden ground and hoisting herself up onto her feet. She braced herself against his flank, gaze held steady towards the ground. Ny name is Citlali.

One would assume—at least, Citlali would—that the generous release of death would offer more solace than life. Yet, her ribs continued to jut from her sides, and hunger still gnawed at her torso with frantic fervor. Was this death? Was this the afterlife, and he, an angel? Or was there some other unforeseen fate which led her here?

Citlali only knew that this was not home. Naira was absent. So was the comfort of grass, replaced by roots that gnarled over the ground and trees that towered high above her head. The sightless girl turned to the stranger, Rouche, and pursed her lips. Where am I? Her brows furrowed. Something deep-seated held onto the belief that the answer was far more complex then it could seem.

Skill : 「 None */5 」

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Even if his current company couldn’t see him, Rouche wore a warm, comforting grin to ease whatever tension may have lingered between them in this situation—truthfully, it may have only been him that was tense. His muscles flexed with uncertainty in response to her words: she was not before. The medic couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to cause such an unfortunate event; what would have led to a blind woman being left to her own devices, in an area that was clearly not well known to her? Rouche wasn’t one to push and pry, but… Why do you find yourself alone now, what’s happened? the man’s voice was quiet, careful not to disturb the rhythm of falling rain.

The gentleness of her words made his head lift up a level, forest-green eyes gleaming with relief. Trust is the greatest thing you could ever offer, and I thank you for it, every word dripped with the essence of his blooming mirth. Rouche always prided himself on these situations, it was such a rewarding path he had chosen to walk, to live for others had made his life better than anything prior.

The ember of care that always glowed within him began to flicker and fade for a moment, the light in his eyes dimming, a frown tugging at his lips, all a result of her touch—or more accurately, the feeling of her malnourished body. Where fat or muscle should have been was nothing more than the stabbing of bones. Rouche had nearly missed her name, too focused on the feeling of her too-light body crutched against him. Citlali, he did his best to not allow his pain to seep into the name as it left his lips. I’m glad it was me that found you… nothing more than words under his breath, mostly to himself.

Once he successfully guided her beneath the thicker section of canopy, away from the tangled roots, he allowed her more space. It wasn’t long before she’d asked a question he had known all too well. Ah… Was that how she ended up alone? I don’t know, exactly. A new land, a new world. I’m unsure, and I don’t think many others have a definitive answer either, Mythris was a strange place without reason. Some type of force steals us from our homes and throws us here, disoriented and without purpose. We have no choice but to find a place to exist here, it truly was a mad thing to think about, wasn’t it?

Citlali… Rouche called out after a moment of thinking to himself, I would like to offer myself as your company, for as long as you may need it. And on that note, I ask that you rest here while I find you a meal, anything was better than nothing.