Seneca Zatol was restless. Since leaving home, he had not spent much time at all away from his brother. The silence of their makeshift den was agonizing at best and he felt the eerie stillness in the air, gnawing at him like like the flies in the heat of summer. Only the darkness of night would be his solace as it came, slowly moving to blanket the land and covering the sun from view and letting the moon's pale face be seen. Finally, he slipped from his hiding place into the night, grateful for the cooler air of night and the crowing of owls and buzzing of insects to interrupt the deafening silence. He slunk from the underbrush like a mouse, his pawsteps careful and quiet, his body pressed close to the earth. Brown eyes would dart to and fro, searching for nothing in particular, muscles tense as he searched the air for foreign scents. For once in his life, he felt some semblance of safety since traveling with Gethin. And yet he was still on edge, twitchy and cautious as he moved, his eyes wide as his vision slowly adjusted to the darkness of night. For some time, his eyes would remain peeled on the sky, hardly even looking to where he was walking. Only when he felt his paw snag on an unseen tree root, sending him nearly stumbling over, would he cast his eyes down - but not before a childish giggle was elicited from his throat. Oh, tonight was going to be fun! "Speech."

Her paws were still damp from her trudge across the river, her pale fur clinging to her skin as the chilly spring breeze rattled her. She shivered, teeth chattering slightly. She had been foolish to paddle across the fridged water when the weather was like this, but it was quite literally the only way she could get her from her pack lands. It was either part of a river or the lake, so she had made the best choice. Or was saying home the best decision the girl could have made? Elegant shoulders shrugged as she walked on, it was too late now to muse over things like that. At least she had gone to the Soulless Forest and crossed there, if she crossed at the Rio Grand she would have to cross yet another river to get to the Weeping Woods. Now that was sure the effort for a little adventure, was it not? But after everything, a simple distraction was all she needed. Ears quivered as she looked up at the willows that sunk low to the ground, a path of roots cutting out of the ground. Perhaps looking up wasn't the best option, it would be quite easy to trip over them. So Mercy leveled out her purple gaze, careful to hop over the more raised roots. It was like a land mine out here, she was actually shocked that she hadn't blinked to see the earth at her face. Thud. The dame paused, pale paw still lingering mid-step as she glanced around. It would seem that someone was not as fortunate as she was, it did sound like someone had fallen. The giggle that followed made her hair stand slightly on end, there was something slightly off about the sound of it. She couldn't spot anyone though, so Mercy took a few more steps forward, elongated tail quivering behind her. "Helloooo?" she asked, trying to pick up any hints of sound from the other. He smelled close, but she didn't want to trip over him. She didn't even know if the poor sod had picked himself up, which is why the giggle confused her. What was fun about falling down? Certainly wasn't graceful, and was very dangerous when one wasn't aware of who was around them. Licking her chops, Mercy stopped, just waiting for the other to come out to her. There was no point wasting her time in looking for the stranger, she wasn't that desperate for company.

Freedom was not a familiar concept to him. His entire life had been dictated by his father; he'd never had any semblance of normalcy or safety in his existence thus far. The heavy weight of his new autonomy weighed heavily on his shoulders and he found his chest tightening, a confusing mixture of excitement and fear. And yet he would deal with it the only way he knew how - but stumbling forward and laughing hysterically at the fact that he had almost tripped on the root of a tree. If Gethin was here, he would give him some direction, but he was temporarily alone and so he would continue on blindly. Only when he heard the distinct voice of another would he pause, freezing like a deer caught in headlights. His eyes were wide, almost frantic, as his head swung to the side to search for her. "What does she want?" he would whisper to himself, his nose wrinkling as he trailed her scent through the darkness of night. Even the moon was little help tonight, shielded by heavy clouds and the long limbs of the willow trees that seemed to hang around every corner. "She smells like a swamp," he wrinkled his nose as he drew closer to her, finally spotting her through the darkness, though his stance was wary and his muscles tense. His eyes remained wide with curiosity, his tail flicking idly behind him. "Is she a swamp creature? Will she eat me?"

Still she did not move as she just waited for the other to show up, her long tail waving slowly behind her. In the darkness the tangle of roots was more of an issue, she didn't want to be looking down when there could be something lurking in the darkness. Mercy was always on alert, it was the fighter in her that never really allowed her to focus when she was somewhere unfamiliar. She did not hear his muted whisper, but soon enough the sound of paws hitting the earth caused her ears to quiver. Purple gaze scanned the area in front of her. narrowing slightly as she tried to pick up who was there. His second words she caught, lips twitching in a threat of a snarl when he said that she smelled like a swamp. She did not stink, thank you very much. Wait, did she. Pausing, the dame turned her head and sniffed at her coat. Well okay, maybe she did smell like a wet wolf. But still! Rather insulting to hear a stranger tell you that you smelled. It took her a moment to find his form, seemingly frozen in place. The brute seemed very much wary of her, and Mercy shrugged her shoulders. She was pretty intimidating, after all. Mercy had to admit that he was an interesting looking creature, from what she could see from her position anyways. Patches of light and dark brown adorned his coat in a complex fashion, the main base of white under it. Head tilted slightly as she studied him, but she blinked at him when his next set of words reached her. Mercy couldn't help but let out a giggle, her head shaking slowly from side to side. "No, I am not a swamp creature. I am a wolf, just like you. Just a tad... wet," she said, feeling very much like she was speaking to a child. Careful not to move and startle the kiddish being, she just eyed him from her place. Ever so slowly she folded herself to her rump, long white tail curling about her. "and no, I won't eat you. Wolves don't taste very good, or so I have heard. My name is Mercy, by the way." The girl said simply. It was hard to explain the feeling that she got about him, but it wasn't hard for her to tell that perhaps this wolf had a few loose wires. He was obviously an adult from his size and stature, and yet he spoke very much like a young whelp. Mercy wasn't sure if that was all that was off about this speckled fella, and it left her feeling slightly wary of him. "Will you eat me?" Mercy tossed in for good measure, a hint of a teasing tone stirred in her vocals.