None of it was familiar. Not a single leaf or blade of grass smelled like her family; not a single stone or cobbled wall looked like home.

Willowbelle's paws carried her, one after another, along the abandoned dirt path that had once been a human road. Her home had similar paths, similar stone walls that flanked the sides, even similar thatched barns that had seen other days. Yet, it was easy for Willow to tell that this was not her home. Wild cattle grazed lazily along the blades of grass, their coats thickened by the coming winter. They were scattered haphazardly, no order to them at all. There was a shepherd or farm hand to be seen, nor could her delicate ears pick up even a faint whimper from a herding dog. No respectable guard canine would ever leave their flock unattended!

The beasts didn't even stir as she moved nearer, as if they'd never experienced the shock of a bite to the nose or ankle when they didn't fall into line. It was almost offensive. A chilly wind brushed through Willow's fur, and she lifted her nose to the sky. Nothing but the scent of the wilds greeted her. The mutt lowered her head to the ground, sniffing to and fro, sweeping like it would somehow help.

It didn't, of course. If there was any sign of life in this place, it had long since faded. Anxiety rose in her chest, but Willowbelle shook it off with a determined huff.

"Well cryin' ain't gonna do much but water the grass." She muttered to herself, ears flicking backwards as she looked down the long stretch of road before her, and the long stretch of path she'd just come from. So much of the highlands stretched out before her, almost as endless as the gaping maw of the forest seemed to be. Neither option seemed particularly suited to someone like her. But, then again... No scents meant that this place wasn't claimed, right? There was nothing saying she couldn't just.. spend the night here and regroup in the morning. Or a few mornings.

She turned curiously down one of the long stretches that led to a collapsing house. Nature had long since claimed the cabin as it's own, but it still offered a perfect amount of shelter for a pup that was quite lost; most importantly, there was an equally distinctive lack of any kind of scent here. Sighing from the familiarity of it, Willow turned herself around and dutifully sat on the porch of the human structure, both of her braincells doing the best they could to figure out a plan for her lost and fuzzy butt.

Why she had decided to stick around this area, Melinoë didn’t really know. She supposed it may be due to the familiarity of humanity that she had come to know through her work. There were few ghosts to guide out in the wilds. Houses and structures usually meant life was bustling and ever active there.

That simply wasn’t the case here.

With the snowstorm that had rolled through the land, it was even more desolate than usual. Sure, she had met a passing face or two, but they were few and far between.

Padding silently along the bridge, the sight of a collapsed structure, perhaps the remnants of a cottage or farmhouse, caught her periphery. Her ears flicked absently as she continued her stroll, not giving it much attention at first. With the floral taint in the air so determined to suffocate the natural scents of the land, she nearly missed the fresh scent of a stranger.

Coming to a halt, the wraith put her nose to work, saffron eyes scanning.

Her gaze initially moved over the great big ball of fluff on the porch before drifting back to it with quiet curiosity. Canting her head slightly, she stared, her eyes neutral.

There was no threat in her stance, only acknowledgement and a stillness that might be disturbing to those who did not know her.

Willowbelle had never really been the planning type. There wasn't exactly much to think about when your job was easy, and a series of whistles told you exactly what needed to be fixed and when. One her human's farm, she'd spent her days either laying around in the middle of the herds, laying around in the middle of the grass, or laying around in the middle of the road. No matter how long she simply thought and sat, nothing seemed to conjure any sort of inspiration in her brain; certainly nothing that would bode well from a human raised half-breed who's only experience in the wild was to keep it away from her farm.

The familiarity of the collapsing cottage at least offered a brief bit of respite, something for her to heave a sigh and settle down on when the lack of ideas simply turned into a lack of though. She wasn't aware of how much time had passed when movement stirred in her vision, only that the sun was certainly not in the same position it had been in when she'd begun her attempted planning. These hours of silence had been perhaps the most prolonged bit of aloneness the wolfdog had her entire life, so it was rather hard for her to understand exactly what her eyes told her.

It wasn't a human that stood at the edge of the road, looking curiously down towards the dilapidated house, but instead another canine.

Under normal circumstances, Willow wouldn't have formed a single thought before accepting her duties as guard dog and chasing off the intruder- but the fact of the matter was, this was no her home, or her fields to protect. And, if honestly called, she would certainly admit to missing the idea that there was life around her other than the dumb sheep and stupid cows. Her tawny fur flowed like tufts of grass in the wind as the female jerked her head up suddenly, scrambling to her paws a moment later. Her stance was wide, almost as much as her mismatched eyes, but Willow had been raised better than to simply throw her tail up. Instead, she lifted her head to sniff delicately at the air, as if to catch what the slow wind might stir towards her of the stranger's scent. It cut through the nothingness of the farm swiftly; her remaining braincells quickly connected the dots, and a moment later her tail was wagging.

"Hello?" Willowbelle stepped from the ruined porch and moved forward a few cautious steps, her body clearly displaying the eagerness of a dog and the caution of a wild wolf. It was as if two sides pulled at opposite ends, settling her in a rather precarious position in the middle. "Is this your house? I didn't mean to trespass, I was just looking for my flock. And my pack. And my cottage..."

Watching as the ball of fluff eventually stood and eyed her back brought the ghost of a smile to Melinoë’s lips. How curious. They certainly were not a wolf, at least not completely.

Deciding curiosity beat out caution, she continued to stroll up the path to the dilapidated cottage. She was greeted by the stranger, and she allowed her tail to wave gently to announce her lack of intent to harm.

Hello. You seem lost.

Keeping her voice neutral and calm, she drew closer.

It is not my home you stand within. I am merely a traveler. Another soul stolen away to this land.

Coming to a halt only a few steps away from the lass, she settled onto her haunches.

You will not find what you seek, child. It has been taken from you. There is no way back.

She attempted to soften the words so they would not be so painful to hear.

I am Melinoë, daughter of Hades, King of the Underworld. And who are you?

It felt so strange to just let what seemed like a pure blooded wolf just... trot up to the ruined cottage. Willowbelle had often been the pup in the middle of the sheep herd, leaving the bigger members of her pack to patrol the outside and keep the predators away. That wasnt to say she hadn't chased off her share of coyotes, she was a guard dog after all, but the idea of chasing off a wolf when it was half her blood had always felt... wrong. Guard dog or not, that part of her heritage was impossible to hide. This wolf felt welcoming, however, even as they spoke with such.. odd words. Willow's tail returned the friendly wag, nose twitching delicately at the other's scent as dhe cautiously approached with the same posture. She'd heard from other dogs with more experience that wolves were very sensitive about body language, and didn't want to offend the first creature capable of conversation that she'd come across.

Even if that conversation was..... strange.

Oh. Her answer was as confused as she was, the expression wore clearly across her muzzle. The other sure spoke with a fair bit of peculiarities, using phrases that she was only partially sure she understood. Did the wolf thing she'd been dog-napped? The wolf settled, but Willowbelle remained standing with a confused tilt of her head and wag of her tail.

Well I'm sure it's around here somewheres. S'not like the humans are very good at hidin, after all...! She replied airly, folded ears drooping as the canine shifted her gaze to her paws. As much as she wanted to deny otherwise, there was no escaping that this place was pointedly empty, and smelled like people hadn't been around for years. Luckily, the other's softened words offered her a respite to the confusing thoughts that clouded her brain. It was enough to return the bright expression to her face, and the wolfdog's tail swept in a wagging curtain of greeting.

Well I ain't got any kinda fancy title like that, but my mama called me Willowbelle. You can call me Willow though, s'all the same to me! Half the time the humans had merely whistled rather than even calling her anything at all!

Melinoë though, that's one fancy name. Don't think I ever met a wolf before, do they all got such pretty and fancy callings? Must be a whole mess tryin' to remember them all. Does anyone ever just call you Meli? The more she spoke, the easier it seemed the words came. It wasn't until Willow noticed that she'd begun to trot around the other female, body language that of an eager canine, that she seemed to recognize what she was doing.

Ahaha, whoops. With a sheepish expression, the fluffy half-breed sat back in the dirt and let the plume of her tail drag back and forth as it wagged. Sorry. My mama's always telling me I got a mouth made for barking, and you're the first other I've seen since I got outta those woods. You can always just tell me shut my yap, or ignore me.

An innocent soul, untouched by the taint of the world. How quaint. How rare.

Dear child, you will not find them. They are gone. You are alone now.

Keeping her voice gentle, she hoped the simple thing would eventually be able to process her words.

It is a pleasure, Willowbelle.

Dipping her head in a respectful gesture, amusement danced in her eyes.

My titles are not… typical. I was not born a wolf. I merely inhabit its body. I am an immortal made flesh. Much to her disdain.

But that is not for you to fret over. You may refer to me as such, if it so pleases you.

Round and round the lass circled, and Melinoë remained at ease. There was clearly no threat in those eyes, nor in the way she moved, only eagerness and a simple kind of joy.

You are perfectly fine as you are. Do not cease speaking on my behalf.

While it was quite true that the wolfdog had never exactly been regarded or thought of herself as particularly smart, especially when it came to comparing herself to some of the others in her pack, Willowbelle was quite sure she was beyond clueless in that moment. She'd never heard another talk with such frankness about things that didn't make a lick of sense, and the other seemed awful confident of it all too!

At least the wolf seemed rather comfortable with it all. Melinoë accepted the quick bouncing of the other's thoughts with little more than a calm smile, and ease seeming to take up a comfortable space in her chest. The half breed couldn't help but admire such confidence in a matter like this, even if she was still not exactly sure what some of those fancy words meant.

She certainly didn't like the part about her pack being gone, about her being alone. It rang some strange chords in her chest, ones that made her ears flick back whenever she wasn't ignoring them. Willow couldn't know why the other was so matter of fact about it all, confident in her assessment that the farm and her pack had disappeared. It made no sense, considering the ruins of this place here. It was almost exactly like her home had been once upon a time, although the world around was certainly different.

You might come to regret that. she barked out a laugh, letting the feeling of it fill her chest and take away the unease that tried to settle there with long fingers of ice and anxiety. Her paws shifted in front of her lightly, doing her best to mimic the other's effortless grace. Was that just a wolf thing?

I'm tellin' you, I could yap the ear off a rabbit. I can't say I understand too much of what you mean Miss Meli, but you seem like you know what's goin' on 'round here at least. I ain't seen another for at least a day, maybe even a bit more. This area must not be too travelled, huh? To be fair, Willow didn't exactly fully understand how wolves lived- did they just stay in one place too, or were they moving a lot? It felt like she never saw the same soul creeping on her flock more than once, so surely they must've been the travelling type, right?

Perhaps if she asked lightly, Meli would be willing to give her the low-down on how things worked around here.
... Did Deities know that? She certainly seemed confident enough to know that.

I rarely regret anything. Each experience is a lesson to be learned, to be valued. When you look at something as having no value, you miss the details that truly make it invaluable.

Melinoë wasn’t entirely certain her words would land, but she offered the wisdom all the same. It was not often that she deemed mortals worthy of conversation, of any attention at all. They were fickle creatures, so easily snuffed out. She should know, seeing as she was their guide.

I apologize if my linguistics are difficult to follow. It is hard to… adjust after holding such mannerisms for so long. Forgive me.

Nodding along to the observation, she cast saffron eyes around them, as though someone new might simply pop into existence.

The land is strange. You never know when a stranger may come calling. But it does seem this region is one less traveled, which is a shame considering all its depth and beauty.

A quiet sigh escaped her. The wraith had always been confident she was more comfortable alone than in company, but that no longer seemed to matter in this form. A part of her longed for connection. Whether that desire came from the feral side or the goddess within, she did not care to discern.

Well. That's a mighty fine way of lookin' at things, Miss Meli. The canine replied with a wag of her tail. She'd finally been able to truly parse what it was the other was saying, and if it didn't sound exactly like the kind of advice her mama would have given her once upon a time! It was much fancier, of course. Melinoë made everything sound like it was the most important thing she'd hear today, and quite frankly Willowbelle was willing to believe it very well might be. She could simply fold her paws underneath her body and listen to the dark wolf say all kinds of things, hoping she could absorb some of that wisdom simply by being near. Was that a wolf thing? Was it possible for Willow to be wise too, seeing as she was half wolf? Or was that what it meant to be a deity? Naw it's ain't nothing to worry about. I got my fair share of strange looks from folks too, on account of the way I talk. Or maybe it was because I talk too much? Well anyways, so long as you don't mind me being about as useless as tits on a bull when it comes to understandin' some of it, I'd be happy to listen.

When Melinoë's eyes cast to the world around them, Willow did the same. While this wasn't her home, she could certainly admire its beauty. Her home and this place were so close, it was almost like they were twins- but even the half breed could see that something was missing. The nature here was far too free, too wild for anything she was familiar with. The humans would definitely have not let such unruliness slide, half the time she got in trouble for being muddy!

Mhmm, you're speakin' my language there. It's like.. I know where I am, but I know for sure I ain't ever been here before. Looks so much like my hills and my cottage that I thought I was home at first but.. sure don't smell like it none. The hound's body slowly slid on the dirt path until she was plopping belly down in the dust, head placed placidly between her paws. Bright, mismatched eyes were turned out to look over the same view that her companion did, even if she wasn't quite sure the two of them were really seeing the same thing. All Willow could spot was a whole lot of world that she had no idea about, and no place to go home in. Yet, her wolfish companion seemed utterly at ease with the world around her. The tawny females couldn't pick up any scent besides the strange mixture of something sweet and something ashy that seemed to surround the other, so did that mean she was alone too?

Miss Meli, you seem awful familiar with this place though, but it ain't your home right? So where is it that you do come from? Willow's head lifted back up as she spoke to the other wolf, looking just like a pup waiting to be told a story. In truth, there was a lot of questions she wanted to ask, but the wolfdog was doing her best at keeping her trap mostly shut in an attempt not to scare away her new friend. It was far more lonely without someone to talk to, even if she wasn't exactly sure about everything that the other was saying... and even if some of the things that Melinoë spoke made her chest squeeze with an uncomfortable feeling.

Watching the expressive nature of her companion’s face and body language was highly amusing to Melinoë. It was all done so innocently, so purely. To live in such a way… it was something to potentially ponder later.

For now, she kept her attention on the lass as she babbled along.

Then she mentioned tits on a bull, and a laugh actually escaped the wraith. Oh, mortals. The way they spoke was always an entertaining thing to witness.

Saffron eyes softened as she offered a small smile to her companion.

I think you have a lovely voice and perfectly valuable things to say. Thank you for the laugh.

Tilting her head as Willow continued talking, the small smile faded, shifting instead into a look of concern.

Willow… do you know how to survive without your masters? Do you know how to hunt? How to properly scent for danger? How to create shelter?

The survival instincts coming from the innocent creature were… not exactly strong. That simply wouldn’t do, if that truly was the case.

Then she wondered more about where the goddess was from.

Hm. It is… a little difficult to explain. I am from the Underworld, the land of the dead. I exist where light and dark meet: dusk and dawn, sun and moon. It is… a melancholic place.

I am deemed the guider of souls. I retrieve those who die within the mortal plane and take them to their final resting place within the Underworld. It is my responsibility to soothe frightened and tormented souls.

She was confident most of this would soar right over sweet Willow’s head, but she had been asked, and Melinoë was proud of her heritage, proud of who she was. What she was.