SKILL herbalist 1/5 AW but attn. Ashkii ;) NORTH of Singing Hills

---

the light was kind today.
cloud lash moved softly beneath the embrace of dawn, where the sun touched the world only in pale gold and long shadows. her paws pressed into dark soil still cool with dew, and the scent of moss and frostbitten pine lingered on the air. above her loomed the mountain—its great flank rippled in stone and snow, casting a long hush across the land.
she had gone north of the valley, further than she usually dared, drawn by some quiet instinct—skedzay’s breath at her nape, perhaps. the wind whispered, and she listened.
at the base of an outcrop, where rock met loam, cloud lash paused.
there.
her eyes lit with wonder.
clusters of white yarrow bloomed defiantly in the crevice, small and fragrant. nearby, nestled beneath curled bramble, a healthy stretch of bear root threaded through the earth. both rare this early—sure signs of luck.

TW: Mentions of past violence.

Skill: Ranger [1/5]

---

It'd been a few weeks since he attacked that woman unprompted. A bitter film over his tongue kept the coppery flavor of her blood in his mouth, a testament to simply how aware he was when it'd happened. Too aware. He remembered everything—how she scrambled, fought back, squirmed beneath the weight of his frame. The sire released a low huff, ambling over gnarling roots of trees that towered overhead.

Ashkii'd already explored east, weeks prior, where he'd unintentionally met with Caius. Last he'd seen of the west was Daanfre—where had that pretty little spirit gone? Pensive eyes narrowed as he aimlessly trekked eastward, where the sun began to rise from the horizon, jagged with distant mountains.

He hadn't gone much further west than the Giant's throne—in truth, he hadn't gone very far from Ambrosia Range at all. There was no point; he had everything he needed. Food. Shelter.

The security of it was gone.

Again, the metallic flavor, mixed with something floral, flower petals. Ashkii halted. That woman had disappeared after that night—where had she gone? He owed one hell of an apology. Lips curled with self-disgust. He continued onwards. He could return to the range once he finally made amends with his own turmoil. That woman was gone. Dead or not, he didn't know. But it would be a blessing to both of them if he never saw her again.

There was a soft rustle by a boulder. White blooming along the rock's edge, akin to snow, yet they were flowers. And among them, a wolf. He halted a safe distance away, tail loosely resting against his lean hocks.

He would not approach, he would not speak. Simply stand. She could react first—with hostility or with sociability. That remained to be seen.

SKILL Herbalist 2/5

---

the smell reached her first—smoke, the ghost of old flame curled among bark and dew. it was not the scent of her valley kin. no, this was foreign, sharp and lingering like a spirit refusing to go.
cloud lash turned, herbs still clutched gently in her jaws, and what she saw stole the rhythm from her heart. a man. tall, shadowed. a face of two halves: white and gray, moon and storm. he stood still, a statue among the stones.
she stiffened. the air between them pulled tight like sinew.
he was built like her people—broad in the chest, honed for the steep valleys, for hard winters and long climbs. her eyes darted once to his paws, to his stillness, to his scent again. it did not threaten—not outright—but it unnerved.
still, she was not rude.
the herbs were placed gently upon a patch of moss. her tail gave a single, cautious sway behind her, an offering. she said nothing—he would not understand her tongue—but her eyes remained steady.
nuvts’eyaȟa’, she said softly, placing her paw briefly to her chest, her name. sharadoii-born. she did not step closer, nor back away. she would not yield this place. but neither would she provoke.
the wind stirred between them, rustling the pale flowers at the stone’s edge.

Skill: Diplomat [2/5]

---

Her words—what did she say? Discolored eyes narrowed, head canted if only slightly. 'Nuvts’eyaȟa’.' It would be asinine for him to make even a mere attempt to mimic her words. Instead, his eyes scanned the rest of her frame—the way in which a forepaw rested upon her sternum. Was it her name? Or was she saying something else about herself?

Ashkii would not try to pry an answer out of her; not with words, at least. Instead, a paw of his own copied her movements, resting upon the breadth of his chest. Ashkii. He rumbled back, moving to rest his haunches upon the grass. His tail coiled to rest against the side of his haunches—a stance of peace, yet not without apprehension.

If she did not speak the same togue, the best Ashkii could do was simply cock his head, raise his brows. Was there something of his she so desired? His presence, or the lack thereof? A slow sweep of his brush against the grass spoke of invitation. For conversation, for whatever else it might be that she wanted.

she tilted her head, eyes catching the way he echoed her gesture—paw to chest. a name returned. ashkii.
cloud lash blinked once, then nodded, understanding blooming across her face. her tail lifted in an easy arc, brushing the grass behind her. she stepped a little nearer, not intrusive, just close enough to better see the colors in his coat, the shape of his eyes. curiosity, not caution, guided her paws.
ashkii, she repeated softly, careful with the shape of it. then, tapping her paw lightly to the ground, she looked south, toward the valley, then back to him.
a question, unspoken: do you come from there?
her ears twitched once. red eyes held to his, waiting, patient in the way of wolves who have nothing to fear and nothing to hide.

Skill: Diplomat [3/5]

---

His eyes followed her gesture towards the valley, down towards the range. Ashkii dipped his head in a calm nod.

His tail lifted once before lowering once again. Calm, welcoming. His nose twitched, eyes meeting hers of crimson. What a curious lady; the sire's lips curled into a small simper, a mixture of something exuberant and curious.

Where did she hail from? He couldn't help but wonder, yet—how could he ask? The inquiry was left limply in the air, longing to be answered, yet unspoken still.

There may as well be other ways to get to know the girl; slowly, Ashkii stood. His tail coiled laxly against his leg, his gaze calm, still. He swept his tail in invitation to follow.

cloud lash watched him stand, the gentle sweep of his tail pulling at something soft within her chest. though no words passed between them, she understood—some things didn’t need saying. her crimson eyes flicked from the curve of his gesture to the open path ahead, then back again.
she nodded once.
then her paws found the earth behind him.
it was not the first time she’d followed a quiet heart through the hills, but this one... this one felt like something different.
her steps fell in rhythm with his. not close, not far. just enough.

Skill: Ranger [4/5]

---

Ashkii was never one to remain idle. It wasn't a rare occurrence for him to be up and about, wandering the hills away from his home with no destination in mind.

But this time was different, as quiet footfalls of the pale she-wolf followed behind him. His gaze occasionally shot back to see if she remained, or if she finally decided that a short hike with a stranger wasn't worth her time.

Yet, much to his own surprise, she was always there—each time he looked to his rear, there were still the same crimson eyes. The same lithe form of this strange wolf. And each time he saw her, his kittenish grin grew wider.

The white-streaked wolf gently parted the underbrush, stepping foot towards the base of the large mountain range. Just beyond the ridges was his home.

Ashkii took a few strides up the mountain before turning once again; would she be willing to join him, still? It was no longer the rolling hills. Instead, it was jutting summits, with peaks that dug into the sky. Was it still worth it to her to follow him?

His head canted. His tail was still loose, yet it waved with anticipation.

cloud lash did not turn back.
her steps remained sure-footed, even as the hills gave way to stone and summit. she watched the way he moved through the brush, light but certain, and there was something in it that mirrored the rhythm of a story not yet told.
her crimson eyes met his when he glanced over his shoulder. still here, they said. still curious.
when he paused, tail stirring with an ask not spoken aloud, she stepped forward again. no hesitation. only a quiet smile that curved her lips as she reached his side.
sky teeth do not scare me, she said softly in her tongue, with a gesture toward the jagged peaks above. and then, after a pause, a single word in common, careful and clear:
yes.

Skill: Ranger [5/5]

---

And here, he'd thought she spoke no words. Ashkii offered her a playful grin, turning around to continue scaling the ridges.

Each step was taken with practiced ease, meticulously over the stone and light layers of moss, with occasional strands of grass that were strewn over the ground. Even now did he glance back on occasion. Though this time, his eyes glimmered not with curiosity, but with mild concern. It wasn't exactly the easiest of hikes.

The tall man halted by a precipice, not yet at the peak, but certainly not close to the base of the mountain. His nose pointed downwards by the meadows which stretched passed the mountain, where the small shack stood and the herds of livestock grazed. From up here, they were naught but small dots, like a colony of ants at his feet. My home. He said simply. Whether or not she would understand, he didn't know—yet, hopefully at least, the message had gotten across.

And what now—even Ashkii didn't know. He wouldn't be surprised if the girl had a family he resided with; she couldn't simply follow him around forever (though he wouldn't really mind that). Perhaps it was the simple plague of loneliness that had led him to bring her here in the first place.

The piebald turned to glance at Cloud Lash before looking down once again. You're welcome to come anytime. He dipped his head.