The white trees were an odd thing to see, they looked like bones jutting out of the earth. A wistful sigh left her lips, purple eyes narrowed slightly against the light drizzle of rain that assaulted her pale coat. Even though this land was not too far from her pack, she had never been here before. She didn't know why, there was a beauty to these parts that was hard to miss. The bare trees seemed a sharp contrast against the grey sky as she looked up, closing her eyes for a moment as she paused her trek forward. Taking in a deep breath of the fresh, clean air, she let it fill her lungs as wide as they could expand. Slowly exhaling, her gaze opened up to look at the churning clouds. She hadn't been home in a few days, she kept felt like she was missing a part of her self. She had already returned back from her time with Gethin, but since she left his side she was very aware of the fact that he wasn't there. Mercy hated to admit it, but she longed to be with him again. Never in her life had she ever allowed herself to grow so attached to one being, and this was exactly why. She was the type of woman that didn't settle down with just one man, her attention span just didn't call for that. She loved to fight, to defend her honor and her pack more than anything else. But there was something about that grey man that had touched a part of herself. Deep down this is what she had been looking for, for someone to fill that empty void in her heart. But he was gone now, and she felt like someone had ripped her heart right out of her chest. Mercy shook her head back and forth, looking down and continuing to walk among the white trees. Her black marked face was now soaked from the rain, hiding the single tear that slipped down her features.

This was exactly why she didn't want anyone close to her. She hated this feeling, the lack of purpose that seemed to take over. Is that why she had come here? Was she hoping to run into him like they always seemed to do? She growled at herself, slamming her paws down on the damp earth. No, she was here to explore, to ease the restlessness that claimed her attention. That was all. Weaving between the trunks, she brushed her flank against their smooth surface. Yes, a nice walk would do. And then she would head back to Imperium, maybe grab Lykos and spar. That would really loosen her joints and get her blood pumping again. Determined to make it happen, Mercy allowed herself to put her mind at ease for the moment. She could worry later, now was a time to just enjoy herself.

"Speech"
'thoughts'

Jutting trees rise from the ground like the claws of a beast from tales of old. They hook in broken stumps and linger as a threat of the inevitability of death. A lone wolf plunders through the area, belly low, and powerful claws grappling the earth below them. Their jaded gaze is set heavy within the skull and yet a swooping expanse is analyzed without fault. Spotty rain falls upon bone dry skeletons while the trees stand as testimony to the cruelty of time. Their white trunks are stark in contrast to a figure of dark coal, a black mantelpiece upon a sea of white. It is quiet here. The erratic pattern of the rain, however, interrupts whatever godly silence the land had been afforded. She paces inconsistently–expeditiously, with disrespect to the mud that squelches beneath expansive paws. This location, that was foretold to be endowed with mystic glimpses of past and perhaps future, brought Django nothing. It is quite simply, the emptiness that resonates, causing a serrated grin to turn to criminal. Upon the horizon stands a lone figure, lost in their aimlessness, with pallid face to match her surrounding. As one comes closer, it is a feeling of anxiety that metastasizes  about her, implicit in the pack wolf's face. Django is outwardly repulsed, well aware of the dangers that accompany one of  clan mentality. The black wolf was neither of the blood not the order, and so she has reason to expect malfeasance. But this does not harbor the nymph; one who is eager for interaction. Her confidence is undaunted as the distance is closed with each loping and bountiful stride, and the same sawtooth grin is presented. "Does she always carry herself in such depressive episodes?" Come the shrill words of a wolf all too aware of her own curiosity.

So so sorry for the wait! Also I had to edit your post, you forgot a few closing tags on your table and it messed up my post.

She was so focused on herself and keeping her mind blank that she did not hear the stranger approach her. When her odd words reached her and cut through her silence, she nearly jumped out of her skin. Hackles stood on end as she twisted herself around, her lips curling back into a snarl as she stared at the black female. A growl vibrated in her throat, she did not like being startled. Mercy's nostrils flared as her purple eyes narrowed, gazing at the green eyed one. As soon as she realized that it was just another wolf, even though she should have from the spoken words, she attempted to calm herself. "What are you talking about?" she asked in a gruff tone, grumpy with herself and her silence being interrupted. She didn't much feel like talking to such an... odd creature. The way she spoke was different, and she wasn't sure how she felt about it. The grin on her face left her feeling slightly unsettled, which is why she was having such a hard time calming herself down. Mercy didn't usually get along with other woman, and she did not miss the confidence in the being before her. Her pale, scar marred body twisted as she faced her head on, her elongated tail raising upwards. If this came to a fight, she was ready for it. Maybe it would help her get all those pent up emotions out.

"Speech"
'thoughts'