YOU'RE NOT AS BRAVE It was getting to be one of those nights again. Those nights seemed to be becoming more and more frequent, the sleepless nights where he tossed and turned in the fine gravel dust on the floor of his den until his fur was coated in dirt. The nights where his thoughts were plagued the hunting party he led to find the cougar that had killed his fellow beta, and how their hunt took them to the cliffs where they found their leader strolling to the sheer end and dropping like a stone into the sea. The moment he knew he would no longer be a beta to a man that believed and trusted in him. The moment he turned to the only person outside of his pack that had been kind to him, and how it had all culminated into what he was now. Old and childless, cursed by pain that never seemed to stop and despite finding a pack that seemed to suit him; alone. He sneezed and rolled onto his paws with a snarled “Bah!” and slipped out of his den. Walking always seemed to help, and he always seemed to find someone whenever he did, which did help, it at least got his mind off of things for a time. He made a point to mark one of the trees on the Fringes of The Maw before he slipped down the cliffs, heading to the Rock Garden. He hoped that one day Crew would be large and formidable enough to loop the strange valley into their territory as well, if only so he could go on his strolls while still being in the safety of the pack. He did love The Crew, truly, and he respected Chaos as a man who could keep the trains running on time while keeping things light hearted and entertaining, but they were so small. Or felt that way anyway. If he were a higher rank he’d find wolves left and right to join them. If he were a beta he’d see that all of Chaos’s grand schemes came to fruition. If only he were. “Ef iffs ‘n buts waer candied noots we’d all hev a marry Yule.” as his mother used to say. He never quite knew what “candied” meant but just assumed, like so many things his mother said, that it was from before his time. He roamed the Rock Garden aimlessly, the last time he did he’d found a young man, this time…Well hopefully this time he’d just find someone to talk to. maybe even Is- He bit down n that thought before he could even finish it. He didn’t even want to entertain the thought. He couldn’t. This is talking AS YOU WERE AT THE START

Oracle had decided to do some wandering, some soul searching as it were, and so Talis had been left behind for the time being as she made her way North into Boreas from Auster. The femme even traveled alone that night, for Bubo was off hunting, and for once Oracle was glad for the loneliness that greeted her. She was able to think, and wonder she did. Wonder what had become of her littermates… and what would one day become of her as well.

Paws lead her onward, farther and farther away from her home as she sought out something. What it was she didn’t know… but she was sure when she found it she’d know then. It was a bit foolish to think like that, perhaps. But Oracle had long ago done away with making sense of things. Everything she knew had changed when she joined her sister in Ivalice… and everything again changed as Dragon took over. But what, she pondered, could still change?

There was an ache in the female’s heart as she entered the rock garden, golden hues searching for some form of Gala or even Aures. It felt like ages since she’d last seen either of them… and Gala… She shook her head. It was probably her fault that he’d wandered off from Talis. Her fault that he was gone again.

A heavy sigh passed Oracle’s lips as she pressed on, at least until the scent of a stranger up yonder assaulted her nose. She paused, one paw mid-air as she took in his scent again. It seemed to be of another pack… and for a moment Oracle wasn’t sure what she wanted to do. Then, making her decision, she lowered her paw and tossed back her head, howling to him.

The question was… would he answer?

His ears perked and his head raised, looking out into the distance where the call came from. At first he didn’t know what to do, he simply watched the figure for a moment, observing. She was upwind so he had no way of knowing who she was, where she came from, or for that matter if she was a girl. It was risky, meeting a stranger in the middle of the night outside of the pack’s territory, but he was strong even though many wolves towered over him and even from a distance he could feel that would be the case once again. He sighed heavily before raising his head and responding with a call of his own; a hollow deep bellow that climbed through the night air to the stars. Formalities done away with he skulked up the valley toward her, his waving long fur falling over his neck like a silk sheet. His fur was still covered in grainy dust from the floor of his den but he had managed to shake off a good deal of it on his way down the mountain. He approached the girl, unsurprised to see that she, like so many others, towered over him. The long hairs between his shoulders raised cautiously as he caught the scent of another pack, although it wasn’t one he was familiar with, which he supposed at least ruled out The Great Brown Bastard’s. “Oy.” He greeted, his head leveled with his spine, ears turned outward in a cautious neutrality. She was pretty, maybe a little old, but still pretty, he wasn’t exactly a spry adolescent himself. He turned his bad eye away from her slightly, although that meant showing the ugly tear on his muzzle it was at least less jarring. He wasn’t exactly attractive, even before his apocalyptic fight with the mountain lion, he was gangly, all legs that ended in too-big paws, the fact that he had a face that looked like raw hamburger was just the final nail in the coffin. “Wut brangs ye tae these parts?” He asked, hoping to start a conversation before she ran screaming for the hills. "Talk" "You" Think

A stranger would approach, a foreign pack scent, though that did not necessarily make the man an enemy… outright at least. Ora wasn’t one for warmongering and the like anyway; it wasn’t really her way. The scars on his face, while they might have scared off a more timid woman, caught Oracle in a sense of wonder. How could one man be so scarred, yet live to tell the tail? Yet that wasn’t all that appeared fascinating about the brute. His voice, his accent, was another thing that had Oracle wondering where he was from, what his story was. Sure she hadn’t yet seen the worst part of his face, but Oracle was intrigued all the same.

“I suppose I must confess I’m a wanderer at heart. I’ve a pack, sure, but it doesn’t quite feel… home.” Oracle felt guilty for saying such a thing. She was around her family… but she still felt distant. Was that not her fault alone? “Sorry. I’m sure the last thing you want to hear is a fae’s ramblings about how her life is not the way she wanted it to be. Surely you’ve a more interesting story to tell, hmm?” A smile graced her face, and the female cocked her head to the side. “I’m Oracle Ancora by the way. Might I have the honor of knowing yours, sir?”