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❁

Izumi's gait carried her hurriedly along the low tide and wet-sanded path, nearly tumbling over her own paws trying to reach her destination -- home. It had been far too long. For as long as she'd begged the wolves of the northern tribe to let her be with her people again, they would not allow it until they knew she'd healed from the concussion and fractures she'd endured. She'd built many lasting relationships there when she'd resided, but never for a second did the empress stop thinking about her people, her family, or Osamu -- the sole occupant of her heart. What she would do to look into his silvered gaze once more, or stand by his side again. The thought made her chest ache.

As the smell of the briny sea with notes of sweet wisterian blooms hit her nose, the woman knew she'd reached home. Though, what she did not smell was the presence of the pack. Her gait slowed to a halt again, and her tail withered against her hocks in the revelation -- Izumi did not need to delve further into the forest to figure out what that meant. The pack was long gone. Not even a lingering scent filled the air; she could tell no one had occupied this place in a long, long while. Again, she had returned to an empty home, once bustling with the life of the dynasty. Wolves. Her wolves.

Izumi should’ve expected this, yet a sickening bitterness still coiled within her stomach. Her head hung low, the toes of her front paws squelching the wet sand it gripped in frustration. Sorrow. If she had returned sooner, then maybe....

No. Now was not the time for self pity. She was stronger than that.

Blinking away the tears that had threatened to fall from her lilac eyes, she shook her head and turned to trot away from the path. The crane bird knew the procedure -- she needed to make things right again. If her stubbornness did not kill her first, then old age might one day.

Her path led her to the ever familiar woodland forests, where she rested upon a bed of soft grass and dead leaves. She did not know where her path would lead her tomorrow morning, but for tonight, this would do.

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Oliver

Oliver himself had a similar dilemma — his time in Mythris, thus far, had lessened the sting of it.

His own losses — his culture, his life — had been an open and festering wound for quite some time, suspected even before his arrival here. He still couldn’t recall everything from before, still bits and pieces lacking a whole, but there were things that had been triggered to remembrance since Mythris. It grew that aching loneliness.

Tonight had been brewing his familiar torments, keeping him awake well past his usual time.

Footsteps were muffled amongst the leave litter, crickets chirping to cover it further. He was meandering, aimlessness directing his way away from the beach and towards the depths of the woods. He had no interest in visiting the water, hadn’t for days, avoiding it like it would reach out to pull him back — he figured that he might have let it if it meant he could have that connection again.

For the most part, his mind was purposefully empty and only half giving attention in case of something nefarious. Though when a gentle breeze brought along with it a scent that was unmistakable, he snapped his gaze in the direction of it. Someone was close, someone new. A grin fell across his face.

It took no time to find them — a woman in white — and he caught himself looking about the scene for a moment, steeped in shadow, before he took a tentative step into the small bit of space that she occupied. Oliver wouldn’t say a word, simply stood there once he was completely out of the underbrush and in her sightline. He wasn’t entirely sure what his goal was, seeking her out to begin with, but he was here.

He continued to look at her down his nose, and a few more moments of silence before, “Lass.”

Perfunctory, with little inflection aside from the accent that lilted his words. He held little expression, perhaps a small amount in the slight tilt backwards of his ear and a half. The man knew he was a sight — all dark and broody, his scars and exposed molars perhaps seen by the woman. He held little regard for how he currently came across, and whether he would change that remained to be seen.

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❁

She’d sensed the approaching presence of another wolf. Her black nose flared and twitched — a male; not one that she knew either. Surely, Izumi could have used this as a means to get up and leave. Surely no one with good intentions would try to approach unannounced, and it wasn’t particularly something she wanted to find out — yet at the same time…..the crane bird didn’t really care to get up right now. Not when she was too busy sulking to figure it out.

The quietness drew out as her back faced the stranger — tail stiff, unsure. Then, in a deepened, thickly accented voice, he called to her.

’Lass.”

The lass he was referring to turned a head over her shoulder, her icy lilac gaze assessing the younger man within her vicinity. A cream colored pelt scattered in fallen autumn leaves — is how she could best describe him. One that met her own stare with grey eyes, which held a bit of color to them that she couldn’t quite make out — not from this distance, at least. Nor could she make out his expression, which was unreadable at best. What really stood out though were the inflictions that marred the side of his face, exposing a few of his molars.

”Sire.” She greeted back, turning her body to face him. Naturally cautious — it was the middle of the night. What was she to expect? Still, she remained visually impassive.

”Are you being curious, or do you wish something of me?”

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