She’d come around with a sharp inhale, and the world she’d appeared to have woken up within felt… wrong. The stone beneath her knees was cold, uneven, ancient… fractured as if time itself had taken a bite out of this place… wherever or whatever this place was.

Rosen lifted her head, ears perking at the soft sound of that familiar clanking of hooves on cobblestone, somewhere beyond the broken walls. It was too close… too strange…

Fragrances from all directions rushed towards her all at once, earthy, moss, fox… something roosting overhead – it caused her to jolt backwards from her kneel, muscles coiling beneath her without a second thought.

Her eyes widened, appearing brighter and more alert and she’d surge upwards to her feet with a regal sharp motion, her mane brushing against her neck softly. Rosen bobbed her head and her nostrils flared as she ingested every scent she could… though something was missing.

There was no herd here… no familiar warmth… just ruins, and the echoing of the winds circulating the walls of the shelter she was beneath.

A dream? Surely… and yet… everything felt too sharp… to real… If this was a dream? It was doing a damn bad job of letting her wake up.

Skill - Vagabond 1/5

Nate hadn't doubted the existence of farmland, not after the bridges by the sparrow nests, and the dilapidated towers straight out of a fairytale further north.

But it somehow hadn't occurred to him that that meant farm animals, too. Chickens, cows.

Horses.

God, he missed horses. The earthy smell was familiar and comforting, and he trekked after it between broken down fences, an ear still turned to the old farmhouse, though it looked far too broken down to be home to any man.

Nothing that ate grass had deigned to speak to him, so Nate didn't expect it. Figured the sight of a wolf would do nothing but scare a horse, anyway. Only wanted the nostalgia of being close to one, again. So he ducked into a crouch downwind after a gorgeous appaloosa, a real spitfire of a mare, and snuck as close as he thought he could reasonably get just to admire her.

Nate, of course, wasn't known for his mastery of the four-feet, yet. He was getting better, but clearly not enough to keep his balance on a snow-laden hill. All it took was the slope being a little too steep, and then he was tumbling head over tail down to the cobblestone trail. Decidedly not stealthy.

Rosen had been posed – all high headed, nostrils flared and every tendon within her appeared drawn tightly like that of a bowstring – especially when the scent she’d grasped was that of a canine.

The sharp crack of his landing jolted through her like a bolt of lightning and her hooves struck the stone in a rapid, startled dance, hindquarters bunching as she spun towards the sound.

Her ears pinned as her breath escaped her in plumes – whatever it was, was groaning. Though she couldn’t tell whether they were groaning from pain or something else.

Her ears twitched back, the forwards, then back again as confusion graced her features, softening the ridged line on her neck. She took one cautious step, hooves clicking lightly on the fractures stone plateau beneath her.

She snorted, lowering her head, mane spilling over one cheek as she peered at them with a bright, bewildered expression. Her breath puffed again, only this time over the very canine beneath her as she gave a tentative sniff, tail flicking at her hind.

Just who was this creature – and why was he so close to her, were they signing a death sentence? Although this wolf had fangs and claws, she could feel her muscles coiling beneath her.

The idea of stomping this canine was more so a passing thought – before anything, she’d find out just who he was, and what he was doing here – wherever here was.

Nate