After mustering up the guts to cross the fragile-looking sand bridge Aerndis found herself in the dense underbrush of the Wildberry Grove. Citrine eyes seemed to glow in the fading light of the setting sun. She only prayed that the bridge would be there when she was ready to return. The sea writhing on either side made it seem like the bridge could be swallowed without notice. Well… it wasn't like she was super attached to Boreas. Maybe her mother had wandered all the way down here? She could hope, she could hope til she bled.

Setting aside the thoughts of the past Aerndis focused on the present. She was hungry. She could feel the hunger gnawing it's way through her belly but she had no idea what sort of prey existed in Auster. Surely, it would be deer and similar creatures? Slinking around tangles of thorny bushes she caught the sound of grunting and the sticking slap of mud. Her ears flicked forward as she peered through the dark at a strange, pig-like creature flopped over on its side in the mud. It's snout was long and drooped over it's lower lip, like a larger Pig Thing had stepped on its snout and the snout stretched in the struggle to pull it free. She did not know if the Pig Thing's were edible but she was hungry enough to try finding out.

Well… almost. The creature wasn't very tall but it was clearly massive, weighing several hundred pounds and with a short, fat neck she knew there would be no swift way to bring it down. Her ears flattened against her head in thought, her tail twitching lightly as she struggled to make a decision. Was the risk worth the reward?

His walk is a slow amble, a gait that is still sore. His skin is still crisp and reddened from the flames that have scorched him, he still smells like the acrid sharpness of smoke and ash, and his gait is stiff and pained. But these are things that will pass with time, and for now, he seeks only the solace and comfort of cooling waters and a well-filled stomach. He is under no impression that he will be able to hunt for valid prey in this condition, and fishing, while viable and likely killing two birds with one stone--requires water that he is currently not near. And so, a scowl creases his scarred face as he continues onward with his ambling shuffle, step step step.
Perhaps it is his sheer force of presence that alerts the pig-thing, and with surprise, it shoots up and waddles quickly off into the underbrush, unfortunately having frightened away the pup's meal inadvertently.

It is however, not in his nature to apologize, nor has he even taken note of her presence beyond a somewhat passing recognition. And then he returns his gaze to her, in her direction, acidic gaze boring into her own with a sharpness that seemed to cut through the air like a knife-- the tension nearly tangible in the space before them.

"...Čo?" he huffs, his voice hoarse. His tongue lolls out from between his teeth, his lips wrinkled slightly--twitching, prepared to peel away from sore and burned gums at a moment's notice, for he is ever on edge and ever alert. Perhaps he would be unable to fight, but he would not go down easy. Perhaps one day he'd learn that not all needed to be met with scorn and suspicion. But, alas, today was not that day, and young though she may have been, he is under no misconceptions that youth is equal to inexperience, and never would he underestimate a potential opponent based upon appearances alone.



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"The Rubble Of Our Sins"

ooc: sorry for the wait on this!

She melded into the essence of patience. Her breathing moved in a steady even rhythm as she observed the strange creatures, searching for any sign of weakness. Perhaps it would be better to abandon this idea and search for easier prey? Aerndis had no spirits or gods to prey to for a sign but in this moment she wish she did. Attacking a strange prey animal with little knowledge of it was dangerous. An injury could fell a lone wolf. Yet, she was terribly hungry. Her needs battled one another. The need to eat and the need to remain uninjured. She waited, the possibilities battling out in her mind until fate finally took pity upon her and made the decision.

Rustling in the brush drew her attention and the tapir's and while she stood her ground, curiosity brimming, the prey took off into the underbrush. Her eyes watched it leave. "Awww…. damn." So much for that idea. Yet, she couldn't bring herself to be overly upset. After all, half of her was very much against the idea of trying to take on such a beast alone. Curiously she turned back to stare at a man who looked like he had passed through hell. His fur was missing in several places, his skin inflamed and beating red. She was taken aback for a moment at his sharp gaze but it only made her steel herself and stare confidently back at him.

...Čo?

Eh? Aerndis tilted her head. She didn't understand what he was saying but she couldn't be sure. Maybe she'd misheard him. She grinned gently as she righted her head. "You look like you fought a fire monster! I've heard about them dwelling in the earth's scar in the north." She stomach rumbled and she wrinkled her nose, pretending she didn't hear it. She didn't want to show weakness. "My name is Aerndis."

He is not silent, but still there is a quiet strength to even his countenance, and despite the injuries that have wracked his body, he stands with a confidence that nearly emanates from every fiber of his being. She meets his gaze with one of her own, smoldering embers meeting the toxic acid, and then...with a youthful innocence that perhaps eases his stance only slightly, she questions him. He snorts, maw peeling back as his muzzle wrinkles but not in a snarl, rather it is a sneer of distaste as if the taste and smell of soot and ash remains on his tongue. "I know not what monster is made of fire but fire in itself is a beast and one that should not be trifled with." The accent he speaks with--sharp and strong, a harsh rumble that makes the sound of his already-baritone voice sound perhaps more unapproachable than it should be. The tapir runs off, and he glances after the pig-thing with disdain.

Aerndis. A name he has not heard before, nor did he ever think he would. "....Potemos." Whether his name was Ares, Svarog, Helios-- he is a man that has been reborn from the ashes again, though there is one name that will forever remain the same. "Helios." will work for now, in this land. He wonders if he would be traced.

"Hunt smart, not hard." Perhaps his common is lacking, for he seems to speak in phrases and tones that are short, sharp, halting. Still, he turns on his heels and with his stiffened gait, begins making his way to the nearby river, for fishing is always the first that a youth should learn. When all else fails and the migratory prey has left the world barren, breaking the ice to find the fish is a life-saver, but catching it requires a practiced skill.



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"The Rubble Of Our Sins"

ooc: ack, sorry again! still trying to cut back in areas so I have more time to post with the chars I'm keeping.

Aerndis couldn't stop her eyes from wandering over his injuries. She was young, still unaccustomed to the results of violence whether it was done by other wolves or nature itself. He said that fire itself was a beast and Aerndis nodded. So there was no monster, just some awful accident. She wanted to ask about it but was not sure if that would be appropriate. If her mother was here she'd tell Aerndis not to go prying into matters that were not her business, especially if those matters were a painful subject.

Aerndis jerked her head to the side at the sudden flurry of motion as the tapir dashed off. Her face distorted. Rats! She shouldn't have been surprised though. They couldn't expect to have a conversation this close to the prey without them noticing and taking action.

At first she thought his name was Potemos but then he spoke the name Helios. "It's nice to meet you. That sounds like a good idea, to hunt smart rather than hard, I mean. Are you a mighty hunter? Do you think you could teach me how to hunt smarter? Any kind of prey is good. I could eat anything!"