Backdated an IC week from this thread.

It was hot.

Far, far too hot. Bordering on sweltering, even. It was enough for Murgrind's maw to hang open, spent far too long in the 'sweltering' heat of these gilded woods for their own good. From that heat, she's made only hungrier, ink-black eyes half-squinting. It's a little maddening, now, feeling the ball of warmth ball up in her chest, fruitlessly expulsed from her maw with every ragged pant. It's too much, all at once, and Murgrind all but gives up. They can smell that cool scent of water wafting through the air, sucking in a deep breath as she adjusts her waddling.

It's perhaps fifteen minutes of walking for her to approach that lovely waterhole, bracing her paws as she awkwardly moves down a steep bank to sink her front paws into that deliciously cool water. To any other eyes, a massive white shape has bustled out of a bit of golden shrubbery, sinking herself into the cool water to the best of her ability. Immediately, do her lips find the dark, rippling surface, gulping down immense mouthfuls of water.

Caiaphas was not meant for this hostile, lonely land. Months of searching deep in the pits of her soul day in and day out left her sure that whatever glimmer of magic made up the fae-folk... it was there, as it always had been, but buried deeper in the marrow of her bones. It was as if hibernating, awaiting the day it was needed as if the fae woman was not suffering aching bones, as if the world she had come to was not angered. As if she hadn't been too far from Thornhaven too long, heart aching, solitude pressing into her. She worried about Harvest a lot, if they were okay without her there to council, if they were getting along well with his betrothed.
Hopefully, they liked each other more than she had liked her own husband. She didn't want a plain drunken morning and the finding of a well-placed lone antler to be the last day her baby had -- or the Zaal, she supposed, after all the effort she'd gone through to get them into a more favorable position. Unlike her own marriage, she'd tried to fit together two pieces of a puzzle that might actually go together.

If Caiaphas knew how to return, she would've by now. She hoped Harvey knew as much.

There were other wolves around, she could smell them -- they even seemed to be the most popular creature to grace these lands. And yet, of all the weeks she'd slunk around investigating, she only now approached her second other creature. Not a large feline this time, but a bear.
A polar bear.
Caiaphas sat up slowly, stood, and smiled.
Curiously, cautiously, the autumn fae approached. It seemed a little out of place for there to be a snow-bear here, of all places, but perhaps Mythris was just so out of whack even the not sentient creatures were turned around. After all, as she watched from where she lay beneath a golden boughed tree, the beast made a beeline for the water and started to place herself in it, as if knowing something was wrong, she was not where she needed to be.

What a sight, she rumbled appreciatively, gently probing for either a reaction of words or instinct.

It was a beautiful day, sunny and not at all hot, and despite it being more of the same for Pelėda he found himself in something akin to a good mood.

He was allowing himself a uncharacteristic rest below a small thicket, enjoying the breeze and the white noise it brought with it, the smells that softly wafted against the short fur of his muzzle. Pensive gaze looked out beneath the shade of the short trees he'd made his bed of, ears a constant rotation of alertness.

While he had a tentative grasp on being relaxed, he wouldn't quite allow himself the full experience of it. He'd managed to convince himself a cease of his search party, but the nagging of his never-ending task made it impossible for him to really enjoy it. So there he sat, in a purgatory of a repose.

With a soft huff of frustration, he'd turn his gaze back towards the water just in time to see the toddling mass of white emerge like a horrible specter. He was immediately afoot, a graceful scrambling to paws. It wasn't fear, but the anxiety in his chest lurched — he'd never in his life seen something like whatever this was. Alike a bear, but surely the biggest thing he'd ever seen.

He watched with curious eyes as it sunk into the dark depths, as it began to guzzle in a way he was sure there would be nothing left of the water if the beast kept at it.

"Hmm." It was decided in an instant, picking up sore paws to pad towards the water with an air of confidence he almost didn't feel. Any other time it would be genuine, but in the sights of such a creature he'd be a fool to think there was no danger there — and Pelėda prided himself on being nothing of the kind.

"Leave some for the rest of us, yeah?" He'd try at humor, a crooked smile that split his face in a way that wasn't quite real. The man would stop with enough distance that he could run with a start, but close enough that he didn't have to quite yell to speak to the other. His toes flexed in the softer, moist dirt there, close to nervous.

A mere moment ago, Murgrind was perfectly alone. Her akimbo jaw opened and closed, snapping loud and harsh and sharp. But lapping isn't enough for the massive beast, immense paws shifting forward until she's got all four paws in the cool water, forelegs scrunching down as their entire forearms submerge. All of it cools them, ears slackening as those massive gulps of cool water hit her stomach. Thank the Stars, she's freed from passing out for just a little bit longer.

That peace, however, is disrupted. One voice speaks, the other one chirps. One idle, one humorous. Eyes so dark they're invisible on the black skin about their eyes flick between. Intense peaches and oranges, to the soft powder and tyto tones in long, shaggy fur. A scarred nose inhales and exhales, sending ripples across the surface of the water. There's a moment of thick silence as that fatty brick of muscle continues to drink, throat working so loudly that they can hear the greedy gulping.

Eventually, however, she pulls up her maw enough for her to lick at her lips with that blue-purple tongue, a slough of water dripping down her chin as she snorts out of her nose and sends a burst of water droplets across the blue surface of the water.

"You'se two gonna's get in on some water anytime this cycle, or nawh? 'Cuz I ain't gonna stop drinkin' no times soon, no sir." Back down her head goes, sucking up a couple more greedy, cooling mouthfuls.

Caiaphas wasn't alone in her watching of the might beast, amused and admiring their might as they slipped ever further into the water, jaws slapping with the effort of the gulps. Another wolf materialized from elsewhere in the thicket, apparently not noticing her -- but they each had taken note of the rather unexpected visitor. There was something humbling about realizing you arent the biggest, the meanest, or one with the sharpest teeth. Still, the fae held only admiration in her heart for the bear, and while there were a few moments in which the Amulet just watched, she was eventually spoken to.

The bear herself seemed... amused, perhaps? Unimpressed? Caiaphas couldn't really place it, but she wouldn't pass up an opportunity like this one. Long, thin grey legs stepped lightly through the grasses as she followed distantly after the younger man, tail waving high and apparently quite cheery to have company. It wasn't really the water she was here for, but it seemed rude to not join in. She'd been alone so long, even risking the kindness of a polar bear seemed reasonable.

I don't need asked twice, she pealed musically back, giggling, and slid gracefully into the frigid water to paddle. She lapped a few mouthfuls of water herself, but mostly out of polite reaction. The only thirst she had to quench was that of her mind buzzing like an angry hive of bees. Any sort of company at this point would be welcome, even if it was a brief respite from her own worries and hopes.

Even in silence, she soaks in the presence of others, smiling away as each aching limb sliced through the water.