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forward dated to 5/14. part i of dracarys' exploration trip. ( skill: ranger )

a shiver runs through dracarys', dread pooling like ice in his belly as he nears the lake that he'd dragged himself from — the wound still fresh he can feel the desperate ache of his lungs for air, the raw pain of each breath as he drug it into his lips, cool air biting as it slid along his dry mouth, tongue, throat —

he shudders and scowls at the water, making an effort to skirt as far from it as he can without wandering into the next territory. it likely adds time to his exploration but it is a small price to pay to keep the looming ghost of death and unwanted memories from haunting him.

gaze locked on the horizon, dracarys pushes south thru the rain drenched evening; watching the grey sky above darken as evening began to morph into dusk.

Skill:— [0/5]

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She was not the deity of water—the Sea was not divine, not to her.

Naught but the warden of the woods. Tender of wounds. Caretaker of the youthful animals—the hatchlings which would not fly, the fawns which would not stand.

Why was she engulfed by unrelenting currents? Like the throat of an insatiable beast did it swallow, gripping every fiber of her physique, tugging each lock of her pale coat. Eyes were slammed shut, jaws clamped painfully tight. Nothing her svelte limbs could do would recify the water's fury as it swept her through its waves in rigorous bursts.

Perhaps it was hours, perhaps it was days. Perhaps a mere few seconds passed, and with a juxtaposing tenderness did the lake's powerful arms gingerly rest her body upon the cradles of solid ground. The shore was laden with frost. There was no time to be startled; the frigid gales gnawed at her exposed, sodden body the moment she was freed from the aquatic prison.

The Forest Mistress rose. Nose twitching—where had she gone? A body lithe, bedecked with gold charms and robes of opulent silk—all gone. Replaced by four paws and tall ears, long fangs, and a feathery tail.

A wolf.

at first, his glimpse had been quick. too quick. until his something — his mind or intuition he could not be sure — forces his steps to halt. his head whips 'round to stare at the wet mound upon the bank. perhaps not unreasonable, given that he himself was drenched from the evening rains ... but something keeps him still. holding him prisoner; invisible chains wrapping 'round his legs, 'round his muzzle.

he forces himself to take a breath.

it is like forcing himself to see his own awakening here.

but unlike him does not appear to be wrenching saltwater. no, she rises, he watches. issi ao sȳrī? (are you well?) asks the siren prince in his native tongue, breaking his silence with a small clear of his throat, though he does not approach — in a manner that is very anti-hero. did you wake here? he asks, changing his question as he speaks in the rough common tongue.

speech ()

Skill: Orator [1/5]

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Siru's eyes lifted from herself towards whoever spoke at her side—a stranger, another wolf, tall and fair. Her eyes lowered briefly, down to gaze at the frost-laden shore. Her own paws that splayed against the stone, once supple fingers replaced with rough pads and savage hooks that dug into the ground. The question was asked with a lilt so gentle, yet, she could not understand his words. She offered a glance.

'Did you wake here?'

Her lips pursed. How would this question be answered?

I had never slumbered, the maiden remarked, yet, it seems so. I have awoken here— her gaze rose to meet his, steady. Where am I? A question asked with the hesitance of a newborn fawn's first steps. Her tongue flashed out from her lips, ghosting over the damp skin of her nose.

i have never slumbered, she replies ... and it reminds him of his own awakening in this strange place. no, he hadn't either. he had drowned, been drowned; a helpless puppet to the the sea as it tossed him around like a weightless ragdoll. he cuts those thoughts off with a sharp inhale of breath, letting it out slower. determined not to show the turmoil warring within him.

this territory they call winterscar, dracarys replies. it is where i ... woke up, too. he gives his head a soft shake, as if he could dispel the memories etched into the very marrow of his bones. i am called dracarys. he offers in the next breath, frosted gaze studying her with quiet contemplation.

Skill:— [1/5]

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Winterscar. Soft eyes, darkened by apprehension, shifted over the expanse. The land was laden with frost, brittle greenery sprouted only where the sun could cast its light uninterrupted. The she-wolf let out a slow breath from a slight gap between her lips.

The mistress let her muscles loosen with the solace that she wasn't alone in this fate. This wasn't some sort of mistake; she was sent here. He was sent here. I see, she murmured, Dracarys... call me Siru, she offered a dip of her head in greeting. I do wish we could meet in different circumstances. There was a melancholy tone to her melodic timbre. Something between regret and defeat; fate had brought them here. No amount of lamenting would ever change that.

Cautious steps with footfalls silent as the beat of an owl's wings drew Siru forwards. Do you know of anyone else here? She glanced at him. Anyone else who wound up in this place?

we do not get to often choose our circumstances, drawls the golden dragon with a shrug of his shoulders. this is a truth he has come to accept, hard though it'd been. he couldn't say he was sorry he'd ended up here, especially as he was fortunate enough that it'd reconnected him with his sister.

but how often were cases like his?

plenty of wolves, i suspect, dracarys draws in a breath and lets it out in a slow exhale. i am fortunate my sister also ended up here. she found me when i... awoke. comes his admittance. a flick of his ear follows.

Skill:—[1/5]

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'We do not often choose our circumstances.' Returned the sire. Siru dipped her head in agreement, with her eyes remaining distant, tracing the contours of the rugged horizon.

The Forest Mistress snapped her gaze back once again to Dracarys as he spoke. 'Plenty of wolves, I suspect.' Suspect—it was the best answer she could get at the moment, Siru figured. 'I am fortunate my sister also ended up here. She found me when I... awoke.'

Muted blue eyes lowered towards the gritty earth just beneath her feet. I see, she mused, that is good. She furrowed her brows pensively. If she were so fortunate to have arrived here with her kin, she wasn't lucky enough to have been found by them as he had been. No matter; she hadn't seen her family in years—their absence was hardly an issue. Not now, at least.

Tail swaying against her hocks, she continued to stray forward. This strange land... How much do you know of this place? She turned to look at him, though an ear remained twisted to heed the sounds of the woodlands which surrounded them.

a soft inhale of breath is taken, followed by a softer, slower exhale; wishing he had anything useful to offer her. the truth was, he doesn't. he has been here maybe a month or so — time wasn't something he was particularly keen on tracking — not when he has more pressing things to keep track of. to explore these strange lands he calls home, assist his sister in rebuilding their legacy.

not much, admits the siren prince; offering her a partially sheepish, partially apologetic ghostling of a grin. i am still learning about it myself. he admits with a soft flick of his ear into the wind; as if he listened hard enough it might whisper it's secrets into his ear.

if it does, he has forgotten how to hear it.

it has many secrets, these lands. that much he feels, was clear.

speech ()

Skill: Ranger[2/5]

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For a moment, her eyes closed, heeding the quiet breath from the other, the soft sounds of water undulating along the coast. That's quite alright, Siru responded, a soft sweep of her tail dismissing the rueful expression on his face. It would be wrong of me to rely on your wisdom when you know me so little. She dipped her head, taking a few paces past the flaxen wolf and standing to face the wilderness, seemingly untouched.

Lands always harbor secrets, she mused, partially to herself. If I'd learned anything from nature, it's that. A pause. Siru raised her gaze to meet Dracarys, unwavering. I wish to explore these lands, she announced. If you wish to accompany me, I will not stop you. Yet, you have no obligation to do so. She nodded curtly and turned back towards the treeline across the clearing. The forest was grand—it'd be a few days' walk, perhaps.

A breath unfurled from pale lips before she set off at an even-paced lope, gaze fixed upon her destination.