She revels in this place. In the shadow of the crumbling towers in the background, a bleak contrast to the blissful greenery surrounding her. The winds here are warm, unseasonable, and her thick fur is hot against the sun beating against her back like some vigorous drum. She aches to return north, to escape this province of fire and seek the chill of the snow—but she is enraptured in all this beauty, the ice forged of winter long leaving her yearning for the blissful taste of spring. Here, it is different, as if it were petrified and kept in this form forever; fields of bright blue and gold tickled her paws with each careful step, making sure to avoid each delicate flower as not to crush it under-paw, to disturb the serenity of this hollow. She is alone, and upon the wind is nothing but the scent of leaves and promises of summer, the harshness of the continent long left behind at the beach she crossed to get here. How achingly beautiful, she thinks, golden gaze flittering about the meadow, this is just like a dream. Perhaps it was. Perhaps Jendayi would awaken, and find herself shivering in her makeshift den during a thick snowstorm, once more listening to the terrifying crumbling of the mountain as another avalanche unfurled its alabaster doom down the mountainside. She bites her tongue—and she does not wake. This is real. The flower atop her crest is old and withered from the journey, and so Jendayi carefully places it upon the ground, before quickly snipping the bud of another one, just as golden as the one before it, and places it where the other once lay. It was her last lingering connection to the matriarch she had left behind, the one final surrender she’d given herself to the past she’d suppressed and long forgotten. There is a daintiness about her that usually is not there, some girlish and youthful giddiness that is no longer shackled to the bleak winter, no longer quelled by the idea that others may be here, watching. She loses herself, if only for this single moment—to roll in the grass and laugh as young girls always do, to tumble in the flowers and send their petals spiraling into the sky to dance with the wind. The smell of fruits and berries soon mixed, and Jendayi soon grew blissfully enveloped within them—until finally, she stops, and lays on her back among the shrubs, staring at the endlessly blue sky and hoping, pleading that it never ended, that the sky would be unfaltering as it always was, and that the sun would fight the dusk for as long as it could.

code & art by lynx

Leaving the harsh winter of the northern continent behind felt like deliverance. While thunderstorms accompanied most evenings, breaking the heat of the day with cracks of lightning and occasional downpours, the days remained pleasant. He knew the dry season would be upon them before long. His family had been stationed in the arid lands nearest to the Bent Canyon for the past year, and he considered himself well acclimated to the climate. In fact, it hardly seemed worth noting, especially coupled with the other tasks that weighed on his mind. Establishing him family a permanent position, and making plans for the future, was no small task. In his odd spare moments Amon would disappear to scout the lands nearest to their own. It was rarer still that he had more than one day to venture, but when he found himself available Amon was more than happy to range even farther afield. It would be some time yet before he ventured northward of the Bifrost of course, but he imagined winter would waylay most northern packs for the time being anyways. Blizzards and famine were hardly conditions one would want to wage war under. It was enough to set his mind at east, at least for the time being. During one such bout of wandering, Amon was surprised to find an indistinct figure in the distance having caught his eye. He thought that it might be a prey creature at first, and was appropriately disappointed to find that it was in fact just a small fae. The waifish creature seemed enraptured with her jovialities, prancing and mincing about like a pup. Or perhaps she was a pup. Several of his children had been the size of this creature when they were only a third of the way grown. He did not approach, more concerned with observing before announcing his presence. There was something to be said for maintaining an advantage, no matter what situation you found yourself in. Partially concealed by the shrubbery and other flora crowding the grove, Amon was sorely tempted to turn away and sure he was never known to the young female. He had no time for either a fight or the senseless, ceaseless questions that typically accompanied meeting a new face. And yet, he was no longer just one brute who felt he had been delivered a mission. He was a leader now, and if he truly meant to claim this realm as his own, ignoring and avoiding those he felt he had little time to suffer was no longer an option. Besides, one never knew when the opportunity to learn something useful or influence another in a useful way might arise. "You have the look of one that has recently escaped winter's grasp," he called out, attempting to affect a neutral tone, if not necessarily a friendly one. In truth he was entirely interested in where the small woman had come from, and what information she might carry along with her. Walk, "Talk" Think

A sabretoothed cat pulling a sleigh appears before you. "Happy holidays!" he purrs as he throws gifts to everyone. Then he leaps away again, but he calls over his shoulder before he disappears from sight, "May your season be merry and your future prosperous!"

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Jendayi does not need to think of much. She had once smelled scents upon the entrance to the grove but they had quickly been overwhelmed by the aroma of fruits and flowers. The wind and sky were adamantly beautiful, and it still carried with it the soft chill from the northlands without it overpowering the cold. The flowers and branches of shrubbery swayed all around her, and sometimes even bent down far enough to tickle her pale nose, eliciting a soft giggle. She closed her eyes, and found the ideation of drifting off into a blissful slumber far too tempting—but even Jendayi knew in the back of her mind she could not allow her sense of safety to falter because this place seemed like paradise (but likewise, she thought, what sort of ferocious beast could ruin this? She would be content to die here, if she must—it were a fitting grave).  She does not first notice his approach, however, until his voice breaks the delicate boundary of her distracting thoughts. She inhales sharply, and the eyes she didn’t know she’d close flutter open, revealing deep gold. She quickly turns in one fluid movement until she is on her belly, and then slowly pulls herself into a sit. There, she sees him, standing among the fruits and flowers. You have the look of one that has recently escaped winter's grasp, he says, and Jendayi’s gaze rests neutrally on him, as well; she had long mastered the art of stoicism, but deep down, Jendayi was a truly neutral creature herself. She cared little for the thoughts and trifles of man where there was much more to learn, more much to experience. “Is it that obvious?” she asks, and there is the faintest bit of humor on her tone—but it does not spark in her eyes the way it perhaps should. (Inside, however, she was feeling oddly thankful; perhaps it was due to the invisible, generous sabrecat). Perhaps luckily (or unluckily) for Amon, Jendayi was a woman of few words. She did not often seek to overwhelmed others with pleasantries and smalltalks, and thus took no care in officially introducing herself, or in asking for his own name (it was always understood by her that she would be allowed what information they were willing to give, but only on their own accord). He does not seem angered by her presence, so Jendayi assumed this land was still yet unclaimed, and her presence was not intruding nor unwanted. She did not move, did not appear aggressive but neither unaggressive—it was some blissful middle, some content (almost too content) demeanor she’d long learned would often frustrate the most boisterous of wolves. But this one seemed different; there was something else. Part of her was intrigued, and part of her wished not to even try to understand it.

code & art by lynx

Amon was struck by this woman's poise. She was nearly half his size but she showed not the slightest trepidation. A level calmness radiated off of her in waves, neither threatening nor assuming anything about his presence. She was small and plain in color, except perhaps for her brilliant eyes, but he had no reason to believe her spirit was any greater than the other mortals who roamed this land. He had met his fair share of otherworldly creatures, wolves that glowed and those that had grown extra appendages, such as tusks and horns. Even so, there seemed to be something elevating her above most of the mortal curs who skulked through these lands. She did not quiver or grovel or blather, and Amon found himself... grateful. Amon had seen hulking brutes another head taller than her tuck tail and run merely at the hulking size of him and many of his kin. Others grew defensive, either violent or anxious. She simply sat, exuding a calm confidence. Of course, Amon was doing his best to appear unthreatening but it was not something he achieved easily. And of course, devastatingly curious. No stranger to the machinations of his own mind, Amon knew better than to fight the questions when they surfaced. One might consider his unrelenting microfocus an unfortunate facet of his intellect, that he would allow them to gnaw at him until he had unraveled their answers. Amon would disagree. Puzzles and pursuits of the mind were as crucial to him as the earth and sky. He craved them. The woman before him was slowly slid under his microscope with a tilt of his head. A smile, genuine and yet lacking genuine warmth, curled onto his lips. "Only a guess," he explained. "I was recently in the northern lands myself, and my reaction upon returning was much the same." He shrugged, as if brushing the matter away. Of course, his reaction had been nothing of the kind. Amon had turned his nose towards the first warm breeze he'd scented, inhaled deeply, closed his eyes... And continued walking. Then again, stoicism was a virtue as far as he was concerned. While his exterior remained cool and reserved, Amon's mind darted from thought to possibility, analyzing the oddity before him. Pleasantries must of course come first. To Amon they were mostly senseless dithering, a useless preamble one must suffer through before achieving anything of worth. But they were part of the game, and so he would suffer them with a smile on his lips. "My name is Amon Abraxas. I am the leader of the Risen Empire in the far southwest of this continent. I've found Auster has a much more favorable climate, if you have water to see yourself through the dry season." A bland comment perhaps, but intentionally so. Amon was more interested in seeing what she would make of it than any particular efficacy it might have. A part of him wondered if she would even entertain his presence, or would she just walk away? It was a welcome diversion, and pleasant puzzle for an afternoon spent otherwise aimlessly wandering. "Talk" "You" Think

It was not of Jendayi’s nature to judge men by their size. Far too often had she seem the calm be the bears, and the vicious be the foxes—but there was always something undeniably daunting about staring into the eyes of one who was as domineering as a man such as Amon. It sparked something in her heart, fluttering wings of a trapped bird desperate to escape, its feathers tickling her breast and her throat, tempting her paws to spurn, to take her away—not out of fear, perhaps, but out of something far more complicated, something indescribable, as if he were a relic to be preserved and watched from afar. The moon to her sun – such blissful opposite, right from the mouths of mothers to their cubs: she of gold eyes, and he of icy blue. Jendayi looks upon him now in his entirety, and even with her racing heart she finds herself unfaltering yet still, subdued, perhaps, by the might of this moment. It is only his voice that breaks the aching silence. Only a guess, he admits. Smart guess. Perhaps the wintry winds still carried upon her pelt, and perhaps the thickness of it had been enough to give it away. Perhaps he truly was some sort of spirit come to guide her—how ironic it would be if it were, for so long Jendayi had pushed aside her past beliefs in order to move on (a thing akin to treason in her birthland), that it would be the spirits to come chase her down and fetter her, punish her. She almost feels the overwhelming urge to reach forward, to touch him just once, to make sure he was real. However, she stays her paw. “That must have been quite a sight,” she responds, and quirks a slender brow. She could not imagine him rolling about in the flowers—certainly, his weight would be enough to crush all the berries in the shrubs underneath him. It was entirely unbelievable. My name is Amon Abraxas. She had gone so long without speaking her own name, without even thinking it, that she had all but forgotten how important titles were. She remembered she’d had one once—and it wasn’t Jendayi. “I am Jendayi,” she responds quietly after his own introduction, and goes on to listen to his own recount; and his title. It seems in one fell swoop Jendayi’s list of acquaintances grew from none to all royals. First an Heir, now a King. “I’m pleased to hear I’ve not been trespassing. I am just a wanderer, and tend to avoid…stepping on any toes. It’s not often I venture this far south—I did not even know this place existed.” Lying is your greatest sin, Jendayi. But she was good at it. It made things easier to forget if she played the role of past-less traveler. It made it easier to move on. However, she had been fickle to assume she would not have to face it as often as she did. Each turn brought with it a new face, and each new face was just as curious as the last—she could not remain nameless and faceless for as long as she’d hoped.

code & art by lynx

Amon could sense the woman's skepticism that he had comported himself in any way similar to her own behavior. His lips curled into a smirk on their own accord, and Amon allowed himself a quiet chuckle, Barely a more than a breath. "Indeed." She introduced herself and he appraised her yet again. "A pleasure to meet you, Jendayi." She claimed to be a wanderer, and his mind wondered if for a moment this woman was of a similar ilk to his sister, Pyralis. When she claimed to avoid stepping on toes, he revised his opinion. Certainly a different sort than his sister. "Auster is an immensely beautiful land," Amon claimed, smile widening with the ghost of the pride he felt at having claimed his own sliver at last. One that would surely grow, in time. "It does not suffer the same seasons as the Northern continent. Instead we have a cool, rainy season and a season of heat and bountiful sunshine. I've found many wolves favor it over Boreas' climate." He raised a brow, wondering if perhaps Jendayi was considering staying for any length of time. While the man's exterior remained cool and calm, the recesses of his mind were churning. A bounty of possibilities and half-formed assumptions battled for preeminence. A wolf wandering the continents without pack ties would be a valuable resource, if Amon had aught to offer her in recompense. However, Amon had never been a hasty sort. He knew impulsive actions often led to disaster, and of course any transaction between them would be pending a mutual trust. This would have to come later, but it was something he would file away and continue ruminating over. For now he forced himself to soften, to become a bit warmer, a bit more welcoming. "If you plan to explore the lands here, there is a cove on the western coast that shimmers and shines with an ethereal light at night. If you walk through the waves, the water will trail behind you. Be advised though, it is bordered to the north and south by my Empire and another pack, so be cautious of the borders." He offered a simple shrug, voice blasé. Amon did not want to imply a threat of any sort, merely advice to a wanderer who wanted to avoid stepping on any toes. The Shimmering Shore was a true marvel, and perhaps if his advice led to a pleasant experience for Jendayi, she would be open to future relations. If aught would come of it, he could not say. That was for the will of the Fallen God to decide, he reminded himself. To Amon, the world was but a series of chess pieces, and he did his best to move them in subtle ways if the opportunity arose. Still his mind was ever churning, churning, churning... "Talk" "You" Think

Auster, this country was called, and Jendayi briefly wondered if the land north of the saltwater bridge was different. It felt entirely different—and so far, the wolves here seemed different, too. How odd.  He confirms her suspicions with his next comments, and the insatiable curiosity kindled in Jendayi’s breast began to burn. Her pale eyes seek the stark ice of his own, and her lips curved into an almost wondrous smile—soft, simple, and small; like a child, seeking the world’s wonder for the very first time. She wanted to reach further, to dig deeper into his words, to seek its meaning and its purpose as if it were prey to be dissected, battles to be watched and studied. Why is that so? she almost asks, but bites her tongue, knowing too well the past would always come back to haunt her. The spirits will it so, an echoing and haunting reminiscence curdling in the back of her mind, matriarch’s voice as gentle yet stern as it always were. Instead, in her silence, her smile disappeared, and Jendayi turned into more of a stunned, starstricken doe. His voice draws her from her reverie, and quietly she listens, unaware of the machinations spinning at the heel of his words. Fickle and maidenly as she was, however, Jendayi knew too well not to throw her trust into someone so quick—Amon was right to hide his cards while the young woman was still oblivious to such things. Instead she is distracted by his mentions, the pictured ideals of his words playing along her mind. She imagined herself immersed in this fabled place, shrouded in its cooling blue light, sunkissed gaze dancing with glints of alabaster and gold. It is only his warning that snaps the thought, wrenching it from her mind and drawing her wandering gaze back toward his own. She counters his shrug with a small smirk of her own, girlish, yet only just noticeable; “I suppose that is also a warning to me that the next time we meet may not be so friendly,” she suggested, knowing far too well she could not afford to play coy. What, are you saying I’m not welcome in your territory? A stranger, who you’ve only just met? But even Jendayi could not stop herself from what innocent prodding—and truth be told, she truly wished to know if this man were one to be feared or not. He was a King—a Commander. Surely, his army spread far and wide. She truly was one to not step on any toes. “I appreciate you telling me more of this place, Amon Abraxas,” she finally said, and wondered if this was where he would part—if this is where their meeting ended. It would be easy to say goodbye, to simply dismiss herself to leave herself to the pleasures of discovery. The shores he had mentioned would undoubtedly be the first place Jendayi went come nightfall, and she had no doubt it may be as spectacular as he may have mentioned. It was much harder, however, to realize perhaps she wanted to say, to see if Amon had more to share of his world, so that she may know of it entirely. Her gaze held his, questioning, yet silenced all the same.

code & art by lynx

Whatever else Jendayi may have been, Amon could appreciate her intellect. She seemed to have no difficulty detecting the nested meaning in Amon's words, and the man smiled. What would their next meeting hold, if they had a next meeting at all? Well, it was certainly circumstantial, and Amon was no prophet. "Well, I suppose that would depend on the lands we find ourselves in." He doubted very much that a wolf who would avoid stepping over boundaries others had set, be them physical or metaphorical, would choose to trespass. Then again, he had no assurance other than her word that she was who she said she was, and that was as good as useless. She thanked him for the information, and he nodded his head in a gracious pseudobow. He was no stranger to cultivating debt, whether or not this strange fae would recognize it as such. Whether or not she felt she owed him in explicit terms, a friendly regard could be just as useful as any particular urge to repay. "Certainly," he said, lifting and waggling a paw as if to dust the comment away. "It can be quite the adjustment, particular when the seasons are at such strong odds. I hope you find that it suits you." At last he stood and gently shook out his coat. Amon did not want to overstay his welcome, nor was he keen on drawing out the platitudes of fresh acquaintanceship. If they met again he would tend to whatever budding seeds this initial meeting had planted, but for now Amon believed he had exhausted his uses for the woman. "I'm afraid I will have to bid you a good day and take my leave," he said, ever gracious. With a dry chuckle he tacked on, "An emperor's daily itinerary is unfortunately endless," in a bid for humor. He wondered if the mortal fae would think it an abrupt departure, wondered whether or not she would take offense. In the end Amon decided that wasn't really his problem. -EXIT- "Talk" "You" Think