Skill:

---

The world spat him out.

With a rough tumble, Niyol skittered against the earth ...
... akin to a pebble shot across the surface of a lake.

The boy would tumble, ass-over-end as he skittered to a shattering stop. He did not remember where he was — he did not remember who he was. All he knew was that he was alive. That he lived. That he ... that ... he was Niyol.

Wasn't he?

A soft grunt escaped his lips as he inhaled, breathing in the scent of snow. It was soft, it was feathery, it was ... whimsical, in a way. Wasn't it? Ah, yes ... snow ...

Snow.

Niyol would whine, his body aching as he struggled to pull himself upright. And once he did, he would sit, static against his own stagnation as he readied and steadied himself.

He was anxious, he was a nervous wreck ... and he couldn't figure out why he was living beneath a tidal wave.

Was he supposed to be ok? Was he ... was he ok?

He was scared, and his eyes showed it.

---

Wandering the nearby territories had become a regular part of Kirain’s responsibilities. There were too many unknown factors, too many potential lost souls, to leave the surrounding lands uninvestigated. How many had she already saved from the wretched cold? How many more would there be? She didn’t know.

In this moment, all she could see was snow.

A piece of her girlish spirit bubbled to the surface, and she found herself prancing through the white drifts with the widest grin spread across her maw. She would always love snow, it reminded her of her childhood, of countless adventures long past. It reminded her of the tundra, of its beauty and its ferocity intertwined as one.

Kirain was content in that moment, frolicking with little care for the world around her, soft, whimsical laughter spilling free. Considering her injuries, she was feeling rather spry, energetic, even joyful.

What harm could that possibly have?

Skill:

---

The glade was quiet, brimming with a rare moment of peace from a world that was being slowly torn asunder. The sun was bright, peeking through the morning clouds ... and the snow would dance gently on the breeze. It was, by all normal means, perfect.

And yet anxiety slithered up his spine like a serpent, coiling around his throat and causing him to swallow against a dry mouth. Niyol's ashy eyes would widen, glistening with fear as the winter wind ruffled through his fur. Why couldn't he remember anything? He would internally search, feverishly testing his mind for any sort of memory ... but it was empty.

He was Niyol.

And that was all he knew.

From somewhere in the distance, the silence was broken. There was laughter, as soft as the chiming of bells. It sounded ... bright. Brighter than the sunlight. And yet the sound would cause him to slouch, his dark body sticking out like a sore thumb as he pressed his belly into the snow below. Niyol's ears would flatten, head lowered to perfectly disguise him. He looked like a rock, right?

And from there, he would spot her, a smaller woman bounding through the snow drifts. She looked peaceful, like she ... as if she belonged here. Oh, and that was so very unlike him. But it seemed his disguise (i.e. "Niyol Rock") was working quite well, as she continued her carefree dance, sending sprays of snow up from all around her.

Niyol would swallow, his heart thrumming in his chest as he slowly began to army crawl toward her. Perhaps she knew something ... anything at all ... about where he was, and why he was here.

Hello ...? his voice cracked, squeaking as he flinched against the sound.

---

Finally slowing to catch her breath and give her injured body a moment’s rest, Kirain’s ears flicked sharply at the sound of a voice. She turned at once, silver eyes scanning the snow-laden landscape in search of its source.

Hello? she called softly.

Her gaze eventually settled on a form pressed low to the ground. She halted, surprise rooting her in place for a long moment before she caught herself. Clearing her throat, Kirain carefully lowered herself to her stomach, making herself smaller, less imposing.

Hello there… she murmured gently. Are you alright? Are you lost? I’m not going to hurt you.

She kept her voice soft and even as she slowly inched forward through the snow, closing the distance bit by bit. When she was about a foot away, she stopped. Her tail wagged gently behind her, brushing and kicking up small sprays of snow.

My name’s Kirain, she continued warmly. I’m the leader of the nearby pack. Do you need help?

Her expression was open, earnest, filled with genuine concern. He had her full, undivided attention now. From where she lay, her eyes traced over his form, quietly checking for signs of injury. Nothing obvious stood out. Perhaps he wasn’t hurt at all, just frightened.

And who wouldn’t be?

To be dropped into a strange land so suddenly would shake even the most confident soul. So Kirain remained where she was, still and patient, giving him the space to speak when he was ready.

Skill:

---

Oh, the little light! She seemed so friendly! So ... so gentle! And so why was he cowering? Why did he find himself sunken and frozen, still very much the awkward rock he had made himself? She clearly could see him — she was not blind. Or at least he didn't think so.

Gradually, he'd release the tension in his limbs, expanding them as he stood up ... just a little bit. Despite his size advantage, he still seemed small compared to her ... but the gentility in her eyes drew him nearer, like a moth to a flame. Gradually, Niyol would swallow, lifting up his flattened ears as he allowed the softness of her voice wash over him.

She asked if he was hurt.
He evaluated his body quickly with a few steadying breaths.

Not hurt. Well, not yet. There's always the chance that it could happen. And with that statement, he would look upward, left, right. As if, perhaps, searching for something that could or would hurt him. After a moment, he'd turn back toward the newly introduced Kirain. Lost ... I ... I don't know. I don't remember. His lips would pull into a soft frown.

He didn't remember anything.

Only that Once Upon a Time, everything hurt.

I'm Niyol, he'd offer as a fair exchange of names, loosely wagging his tail all while holding it upward between his legs. His ears would pull back atop his head as he'd offer her a gentle, submissive grin. She was a leader, afterall. Where ... where does your pack live? The inquisition was soft, but he could not help but let a glimmer of hope flicker from behind his soft, sandy eyes.

---

The little dame had never been one to be considered threatening. Too bright, too small to inspire much concern. But the fear in his eyes, it made her heart ache for him. What had he endured to look at another soul like that? The poor thing…

At the very least, he wasn’t injured, though he seemed almost certain he was about to be.

Easy, easy, Kirain murmured softly. No one is going to hurt you. I promise. I’ll protect you. You’re safe now.

Her tone remained gentle, sweet, doing everything she could to be reassuring. I’m glad you aren’t injured, and I’m sorry that you’re lost. That can be very overwhelming. She tilted her head slightly, silver eyes kind. Don’t stress yourself over not remembering. Sometimes… with time to decompress, things come back on their own.

She offered him another warm smile, shifting just a little closer, not enough to crowd him, but close enough to offer comfort through presence alone.

It’s so lovely to meet you, Niyol, she continued. My pack, Camhanaich, lies to the south of here in Druids Rise, no more than a day’s walk. A small pause, hopeful but not pressing. Would you like to come with me? We have places you can stay, food to eat. You’d be safe within our borders.