It had been three days since her arrival… wherever she was.

She had trekked northward, toward an intangible landmark, biding her time until a familiar scent finally wafted through her sinuses and triggered long-begotten memories stirring restlessly in her brain. They were vivid, albeit she would claim overly so, and they proved to be a painful thorn in the back of her mind. Her mate, her family… their hodge-podge band of rogues and strays. She sighed from deep within her aching chest. She and Rowen had been eager for the new Spring-- pups rolling about, yipping, annoying the elders. Pups of her own. Something she had vowed to never entertain until, that is, she fell in love with Rowen.

The she-wolf shook the thought from her mind. Now was not the time to lose herself.

Day one of her arrival had been spent in desperation-- back-tracking her steps until she realized there were no steps to back-track. It was as if she just… landed here.

Day two was a day of recovery. Not rest, recovery, she would remind herself. Her father had taught her that whenever she got lost, it was more important to find food and shelter than meander without intention. After all, it was far easier to find someone near a rotting, stinking corpse than in a featureless storm. So, naturally, Takala found miscellaneous vermin as her prey of choice. Wherever she had been misplaced proved plentiful enough in food sources, at least.

Now, day three. With a full belly, thirst began to set in. She had been descending a rather large mountain toward the valley below, toward what looked like a frozen lake. While snow proved… somewhat satiable, despite the miscellaneous pebbles strewn within, what she really craved was a source of moving water.

Finally, after a graceless descent, she had made it to the lake’s edge. Clawing at the edge, thin fragments of ice began to fragment and break under the weight of her paw until eventually a hole large enough to stick her nose in surrendered itself. Wasting no time, she began to lap at the glacial melt, its frigid grip piercing her tongue. But she didn’t care. It was running water at last.

Skill: 「 - 」
TW: small mention of a previous attack and previous death

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A sharp, gasping inhale was how Rouche had woken up. It was abrupt, his fur prickling as the ominous feeling of goosebumps washed across his skin like waves on a shore. Something was wrong, and he couldn’t quite recall what it was. The man’s head turned slowly, brows pleated with a desperate expression of uncertainty. Where…was he? And when had he fallen asleep? Green eyes met the sky, noticing the way clouds were highlighted and traced in the unmistakable colors of dusk. It was odd for him to sleep the day away, only adding to his already messily-sized knot of confusion.

Rouche eventually stood, his body feeling heavy and fatigued for a few seconds before managing to stabilize. He concluded staying there wouldn’t answer any of his questions, so he might as well search, even if it ends up being all in vain.

After a time, it was the faint sound of cracking ice that drew his ears forward. Rouche glanced in the direction of its origin, his feet beginning to move instinctively. After a few strides, his limbs locked. Trace amounts of adrenaline began to course in his blood, increasing his heart rate and burning him from the inside out.

He remembered Barbosa… he remembered Aerys… and he remembered—

Rouche shook out his coat, as if it would aid in releasing the tension he felt. There was an attack, he recalled seeing it, hearing it, feeling it. He hadn’t survived, then? Was that how this worked? His life ended and he was thrust back into the world as if the cycle was never to end? He supposed death was the way he’d gotten to Mythris in the first place.

Then what of Barbosa?

Green eyes blinked, regaining focus on the here and now. Standing and wondering was not going to solve his questions. So he made his way towards the one who had been cracking the lake’s surface. It hadn’t taken long, her lilac-brown fur standing out gently from the otherwise winterized landscape.

Excuse me, miss? His voice carried from a distance away, not wishing to make the other feel cornered or crept upon. My name is Rouche, may I come closer and speak with you? a question he often asked, as consent was an important thing to him. He recalled Henley, injured and tense, as well as Macadamia. Both times he feared their unease would prevent his medical assistance from being applied. The nice thing was this woman also seemed to be in well enough health, or at least uninjured.

A dream. Despite her clinging to survival, it was merely a replay of her early adulthood, when she scrambled to survive. With scents as foreign as these, and the mere consideration that she had just woken up here was far too farfetched to entertain. It was all just a long, seemingly endless dream. A dream induced by mind-altering mushrooms, perhaps. Even if there was no recollection of consuming such a thing before she fell asleep beside Rowen. The cold liquid that flooded into her stomach, colliding with the heat of her bowels... despite how real it all felt, it was simply a very vivid, lucid dream. Soon enough, Takala told herself, she would wake up.

Yet, another accompanied her on her sleep-journey.

'Excuse me, miss?'

Her ears pivoted to the source of voice before her cool gaze followed. Another wolf? And an unfamiliar one, at that. Odd. Never had she dreamt of a stranger. She blinked dumbly.

'My name is Rouche, may I come closer and speak with you?'

"I don't know you," Her voice was level, calm, and curious. After all, this wolf was merely a figment of her imagination. Perhaps the dream-wolf would explain where she had known him from if she simply iterated her internal dialogue.

As she awaited his response, her gaze flickered over his visage. He was tall, about as tall as... Oh! Of course! He was a Northerner like her! Not a Southerner like Rowen. He was too tall, too gray. Was he from Boone's pack, and she had just forgotten they met?

"Where have we met before?"

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note: I am retroactively revising my previous post that she is in denial, and believes this is all a dream.