Aurielle Adravendi

She padded slowly through the ravine, eyes shifting from wall to wall as she let her nose tell her the stories of the last few days. Ashen had left the west. She’d explored the whole of both territories and found traces that they had moved out, heading east. It left her somewhat conflicted, surprisingly. On one paw, she didn’t mind the opportunity having the lands next door to her territory open once more—it meant the possibility of expansion. On the other, she’d hoped to have trade-partners in Ashen, right next door. She had slightly liked Deathbelle, and Harbringr was proving an interesting source of company in the times she encountered him. Overall, it was what it was, and she would use the advantage to her benefit for the pack. It meant the lands were open to be hunted without starting a war they weren’t ready for, and herbs from the lake that Paladin was after. Sighing, she retreated back to the trail that led up to the top of the ravine walls, finding a spot and settling in the dying light of the day. It was growing dark, and the blessedly clear sky was beginning to show points of light. She herself was a flickering light source these days. The light in her coat was growing more prominent with every passing week. She wasn’t sure when it would finally stop, but it was most notable where her fur had grown back from scratches and wounds that had broken the skin or torn out her fur. She was just glad nothing other than her fur was glowing. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

Lurking almost silently among the sand-dusted forest was the well-muscled male, his attention pointed in the direction of the oncoming wind; with it did it bus a passenger of idiosyncratic, exotic fumes in which were his liking, thus creating the notion in his mind of a simple time when he belonged to a pack. Though of course, he couldn't lie to himself, the 'pack' he belonged to had barely been a pack at all. They were ruthless, cutthroat, and as if it weren't enough, they were family. Though things weren't as they seemed anymore, he didn't really care, no, he'd left after all. Kicking and screaming with his fathers' blood crusted along his eyes... and even though he'd kissed their sorry asses goodbye months ago, still, he felt he wasn't alone. As if he were being haunted. He'd been running and walking and running and walking. Days now. It seemed no matter where he went, someone was close to follow, it was something he'd have to put up with.

Standing by his lonesome did he place his form upon the jagged rocks in front of him, eyes scanning the even land until that same scent hit his nose. "Wolves." Snarling, he spat. He hadn't been around his own kind in so long it had begun to take a toll on him, he didn't know the basic rules of submission or serenity, he only knew how to be the way he'd always been, and in a world where everyone was sought to be perfect... He was the crack in the porcelain.

Cascading visionaries carried hints of mirrored sympathy, for himself and for those who didn't understand his emotional handicap. He could give love, kindness, hope, though his noble intelligence would not allow him to receive worth that would hurt him in the long run, such things were pointless and he wished not to be abandoned again. Even if the abandonment was his own doing. "No, wolf." Soon his body begun to march forward, massive shoulders rolling from the days he'd lived day and night as his mother's shield and sword, he was always polished and stern. He sighed, bursting forward and allowing his masculine scents to mingle with that of the stranger -- a warning and a note.

Pine cones, burning wood, lavender. His scent could be taken as stench, maybe intoxicating, all he knew was he'd registered this strange wolf before, as a flavour of course. Not that she knew he'd been watching her. "Female. Young. It's her." He skidded to a halt, enormous paws grasping the ground in pits of dirt his claws had made. He'd almost ran dead smack into her, something he did not want to do considering he was hoping to befriend this woman even more so than his first introduction with her. Though truthfully, why was she out here anyway? What was she doing up at this odd time of day, or at least, at this place now? And why, by the gods, she was glowing! "Pardon my tongue, madam, but your pelt... It radiates like the stars around the moon." He paused, leaning forward, then stepping back. "Are... Are you ill?"

atop his head a crown of thorns   ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ✦

Aurielle Adravendi

A scent rode on the breeze, and she tipped her muzzle into that wind, ears tipping toward the direction it emanated from as she studied on the smell. A lone male, of similar age to herself. He was a ways off, but the growing strength of the scent told her he was on the approach. That was all she could gather before the angle of the wind shifted, taking the direct thread of scent from her nostrils. She shifted to her belly, hind legs neatly tucked underneath herself, in a perfect position to propel her body forward into the ravine – a dizzying drop at first glance, but she’d had enough time there to spot several spots she could land on before a bone-jarring or breaking thud to the floor of the ravine. However, she held still, giving the stranger a chance to prove he wasn’t a threat. After all, the element of surprise was a boon, in fleeing or whipping around to rake her long fangs over an attacker’s throat. He just about tripped over her, and if he hadn’t put the brakes on at the last moment, he might well have. She hadn’t turned her head toward him when he popped into the scene, apparently unconcerned by his sudden appearance. At his query, she rose smoothly, gave a brief chuckle. “My healers have told me plainly that I am not ill… If I didn’t trust them so implicitly I might doubt their word.” She gave the dully glowing coat a shake, sending another one of those clouds of white fur fluttering off on the breeze. She watched it and huffed a sigh before shifting to face the male fully with an easy flick of her bannerlike tail, head cocking as she studied him. She held herself with a leader’s easy dignity and elegance, head above her shoulders. There was no arrogance in the stance, merely a born authority. Nothing to show the male what storms lay within. The gradated eyes of fathomless sapphire and brilliant sky regarded him steadily, and not unkindly. “Aside from nigh on tripping over me, what brings you to the west?” Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

"Ah, I was originally hunting but an interesting scent hit my nose, it was so light and crisp... I do believe it was filled with... What's that scent?" Extensive paws slithered forward upon the ravishing atramentous woman; visionaries of endless sea cascading forth from his sights as he decided to pause for a moment in respect, in allurement. He would count the times in his head, every instant he'd been struck in a motion of halt by the mere entrance of the opposite sex... And there were none. He kept reeling back in his cerebration, searching, spinning himself dizzy as he took it all in. She needed a crowd, a standing ovation.

The applauds, the drawing of the curtains, the lights dappling her moon crescent flesh with flecks of crackling gold; confetti streaming directly along her raging eyes as he felt his own pools of ocean wash upon her silken shores. An extinguisher, no, no, a creator of land, of earth. As his muscular neck pulled itself from her body, those seafoam eyes of his remained attached to her gaze, its waves frothing over her time and time again as if he were scanning for something he'd missed before. Yet, he found nothing. Nothing other than the scent he had been taken by earlier.  "Ah, yes... Lavender, jasmine, and Nomades." He mused, gullet filled with bubbling purrs of satisfaction, canid fangs poking from his jowls as he felt his visage etch itself into a smile. She fascinated him, yes, very much so. The way she held herself with confidence, stinging those beneath her. Where was the top? Below her feet where it belonged. 'Oh, have mercy upon my thoughts, m'goddess, for you know not what it does and will do.'

He chuckled, finally lifting those oceanic orbs from her to gently place them on that of the forest around her. She spoke words that were foreign to his brain, and the flavour of it was something he longed to hold more often. It wasn't every day he grasped a greater education. "Your name... it's Aurielle, correct? You're a ruler out there somewhere, that I know, but where... That part evades me." He adjusted his look to that of a concerned gentleman, nodding his head at her, but that glint of amusement never left his gaze.

atop his head a crown of thorns   ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ✦

Aurielle Adravendi

Her head tipped further at his response, one ear flicking back at the sound of an evening bird before tipping back at his mention of ‘Nomades’. Had he met her allies, perhaps? He seemed to be studying her as if she held the secret to life, and while odd, she was more interested in how her knew who she was. None of the wariness that bubbled in her chest showed on her face or in her eyes. Merely interest and curiosity as she remarked, “Wasn’t aware I had that much fame in the world.” Her head turned northward and she nodded slightly west. “I am the Spirit of Valhalla. It lies in the west, not far from here.” For all that she was internally emotional, the most that showed on her features was a bland politeness. But as she returned her gaze to the male, a keen spark answered that glint in his eyes as she added, “You know my name, but you’ve yet to provide your own.” Shifting away from the edge of the ravine wall she padded forward, tipping her head in subtle invitation. She had no real interest in standing in one spot at the moment, and she also figured that the journey home would be best made now. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

At the notion of her lenient voice did his muscular neck turn, leery eyes quickly turning tranquil. She seemed to allow his company alongside her own, and with that did he send a brief message of gratitude by following close to her flank -- a low rumble in his chest to signify his protection. He knew she didn't need it, any man with capable vision could see that, but he guarded nevertheless. For the woman before him was something to witness, and not wholly because she was as divine as a lamb was pure, more so on the fact she hadn't yet grown tired of his presence. She was extending her olive branch his way, the male would feast upon her kindness lavishly until she grew bothered of him. He knew it would happen eventually, it always did.  "The Spirit, huh? So you are the vigor of your pack -- the moral and heart." He nodded in understanding, pressing onward at her side at a respectful (yet close) length, pondering on her prior words.

She seemed interested in him, but it wasn't out of attraction, it was curiosity, and rightfully so. He knew her name, now her rank, and she knew nothing of him. In all honesty, he didn't know if he wanted her to learn much about his sorry ass, it might convince her that he was as worthless as he surely was. Still, Whit could be a lot of things, but a liar wasn't one of them. His moon-powdered eyes smiled upon her, voice bubbling from his maw like cooling magma. "I go by Whitfield, but if you listen close enough to the rest of the loners, you'll likely hear many other callings." There. Two birds with one stone. Now they'd shared the same amount of information.

atop his head a crown of thorns   ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ✦

Aurielle Adravendi

Aurielle’s head tipped slightly at his words, putting in at the end, “In some ways. My secondary would be called Soul. And the wolf I take as a mate would be called the Heart.” Her eyes cast a sidelong glance back at the male, as he finally introduced himself. She graced him with a light smile of approval at the forthright introduction, though she couldn’t say she’d heard of him anywhere. Her paw-steps led in a meandering, yet purposeful path, edging northwest. “You mentioned ‘Nomades’… Did you mean the Nomads, by any chance?” If he had, she wouldn’t have to explain what she meant—elite master healers, who were just as adept at fighting even if they were primarily healers. However, any response he might have given was drowned out by a crackling of something huge pushing through the underbrush. An all-too-familiar stench wafted their way and she only stilled for an instant before slipping forward on suddenly ghostly silent paws. When she caught a glimpse of her quarry, though, her steps did falter. What was one of the great white, northern bears doing in a clime like this? Its white coat was dirty, its appearance thinner than it should have been. But its temper was so much nastier than the bear she’d battled in the north. And that was about where thoughts had to be cast aside for action, because the bear caught the flicker of her newling light and bolted straight for the two wolves with an ill-tempered bellow. She was in front of Whitfield. That put her in the defending position, which was definitely what triggered the icy fury that chilled through her veins. It wasn’t the attack on herself. It was the attack on another wolf. So, she bounded to meet the beast head-on. It was at the last moment, when she spotted the bear shifting its weight to slap out at her that she took flight and sought to sink her canines into the large paw at the wrist. She captured the grip, only long enough to let the beast thunder its pain and fling her free. She let go intentionally, rolling back to her paws as the bear turned to face her and snarl. Good, come after me. Was she glowing brighter than she had been? Maybe—that roll through the dirt had sloughed off more of the dead fur, revealing the new coat beneath. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

As she spoke, the brute found himself mesmerized at her words, walking alongside her both in awe and in the principality of not knowing. Her lips flashed words that were unknown to his ears, and while he wasn't deaf, he certainly held the expression as if those very sentences drifted into one ear and out the other. He had some idea on what she was talking about, it was just ironic that the titles that had fallen from his tongue were ranks in what he now recognized to be her kingdom. So, to put it lightly, this entire time he was in the presence of a queen? "Wait, wait, wait... So, you're a crown-holder? An empress? My Gods, I had no idea--," And to think I've been watching you for weeks now... "--That you were an alpha, and wait... Your heart? Y-You don't have a--,"

His curiosity stopped in his throat, the sound of thunder roaring in their faces. It seemed to come from the clouds. Its fur browned, its anger radiating. The hell is that? A fucking bear? Truthfully the male had been taken off guard, and if it hadn't been for the miss in front of him he'd likely still be boggled by her situation. Well, now they had one of their own. "Is... Is that a polar bear? Here?" Asking questions when there shouldn't be any was something he would be getting scolded for by his mother had she been here, and his piss-poor fighting skills would be something his father would be beating his ass for. Though despite this, there wasn't a single chance he'd be letting Aurielle take this beast by herself, even if he was positive she could. That was no way to make a first impression, nope.

Standing with his head low did the male bare his teeth, his taller form running to stand a bit away from the female as to attempt to take the brute on from another angle -- surrounding it. He didn't want to make it feel trapped to the point it broke out in a bigger rage than it way in already, but if it swung, he could dodge, and then maybe Auri could strike. "I'll try to distract it!" Whit snarled, snapping his jaws close to the tail of the polar bear.

Aurielle Adravendi

His bafflement was… unusual. Hadn’t he already stated that she was a ruler? All the things he said now were just another version of a ruler. Did ruler have another meaning where he came from? She’d ponder those questions later. Right then, there was a bear to fight. Whitfield didn’t seem averse to battling the king-Breed of bears. As the male didn’t strike the bear, however, and Aurielle had, the bear didn’t really give Whit much mind, lumbering after the white Spirit as she danced further to one side, keeping its attention and leaving White a perfect opening at the back, as she ducked under a swiping paw, lunging after it with a slash of long canines before dancing out of reach again. The bear was as pissed as it could be, between the pain, the heat of a biome it had washed up on in a bad storm, and the hunger that had led it to swim out to see in hopes of finding new hunting beyond the volcano affected lands of Boreas. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think